


Divergence

by Lynxrider



Series: Substitute Soul [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alcohol as a character, Alphonse Remakes Himself, Blood and Gore, Brotherhood, Dysphoria, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Family of Sins, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Genderfluid Character, Growing Up, Healing, Hero made to do bad things Trope, Hurt/Comfort, I swear this is going to have a happy ending, Infiltration, Isekai, Lust is a fabulous villain, M/M, Martial Arts, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Touching, Objectification, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Sort Of, The third Elric Brother, Underage - Freeform, and it's awesome, everyone drinks, except Ed he doesn't like it, kind of, oc-insert, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-10-12 18:31:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 83,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynxrider/pseuds/Lynxrider
Summary: Edward's brother is missing. Lust finally got what she wanted, ripping from Edward and Alphonse the last of their innocence and destroying their family for a second time. Whether the Elrics would reunite as brothers or as enemies hung at the whims of a madwoman who'd already dug her fangs deep into the soul of one unfortunate young man...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to Divergence, book two in the Substitute Soul Series. Mind the tags, as this installment will be a mite darker than the last. Ratings may change and I will give adequate warnings and update the tags if anything super dark is about to go down (ie, noncon, character death, etc) or if I decide to add some explicit content. I've got a lot planned for this book and it will, as the title implies, diverge drastically from the original series. If you want to have any hope of understanging what's going on, please read Deliverance. I'll recap a bit, but not too much. 
> 
> I'm going to TRY for weekly chapters. We'll see how well that goes. Enjoy!

** _Flashback_ **

_ "Brother! Brother, please!" _

_ "Al…" Edward groaned, forcing himself to sit his aching body upright in the face of his younger brother's urgent shout. He squinted through the pain tearing through him, taking in the absolute absence of color where there had once been an abundance of blood red. A deep seated panic gripped him in denial of what he knew just happened. No, no, please…But there was no denying that not a drop of red water remained to light the cavernous room in Lab Five. Blood sluggishly rushed in the young man's ears as he looked to the center of the large despicable transmutation circle he’d helped create. There, sitting innocuously in the middle of the room, was the philosopher's stone, the sinful draw, the holy grail he thought would make everything right again and exonerate his sins…but would only end up destroying his soul for good. It gleamed red, the only color in the suddenly dim and lifeless surroundings. Agony pounded in the grievous wound in his side as well as the gaping wound in his heart. He did this…all those people… _

_ That train of thought was blown from his mind as a dark figure fell to his knees behind the stone. _

_ Edward's stomach plummeted through the floor. Alex…his adopted brother and one half of his ultimate failure. A black-gloved arm wrapped around Alex’s middle, the other plucking the crimson stone from the floor. Malicious eyes flashed in triumph before the stone was pressed inside of him. Alex screamed. _

_ After that was a blur, despite Edward's best effort at remembering. Alphonse sobbing in the background, a few vague impressions of colors, sounds, pain, and a nameless dread… _

_ And when he woke next, Edward and Alphonse's brother was gone. _

* * *

_ Three days later, Central Military Hospital _

"Edward, Please. You have to eat at some point."

Edward didn’t move to acknowledge Winry’s irritation. The young woman had been heckling him for two days now, but Edward couldn’t bring himself to eat and he really wished she would stop trying. Dull gold eyes slipped around absently, not really taking in the white stark hospital room and pausing, as always, on the blank spot where his youngest brother once sat before he requested to move to the roof. As every day since that time, Edward's heart sank in disappointment when Alphonse remained stubbornly absent.

"Not hungry," Edward sighed, leaning back against the hard pillows on the hospital cot he was confined to and resuming his vacant gaze out the window. The back of his head itched but he ignored it, no longer tempted to run his hand through the unfamiliar short cut, the ends still ragged and uneven from where he’d hacked through it with his automail blade.

Winry's narrow shoulders slumped in resignation, gaze softening at Edwards recalcitrant back.

"He still hasn't returned, has he?" she asked softly as if she let her voice rise above the low tones of mourning Edward would burst into tears. Edward grunted in response, feeling number than anything, couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed by the kid-gloves she wore. It wasn't just the drugs coursing through him that held the slowly retreating pain in his side at bay, either. Ever since the events at Lab five four days ago, he'd felt…drained. Empty. And the only one who could pull him from that–the only one_ left _, he thought, depressed–hadn't spoken to him since the day after he woke.

The red glow of his youngest brother's eyes burned him steadily but no matter what Edward said, he couldn’t get Alphonse to respond. It was terrifying, the silence, and when Edward's pleas became desperate, Alphonse calmly asked Major Armstrong, who visited every other day, to help him to the roof so he could watch the sky. Heartbroken all over again, Edward watched as his only remaining brother was lifted on Armstrong's shoulder–the armor that held his soul marred and broken from the recent battle, leaving him helpless–and taken from Edward’s sight.

Edward's mismatched shoulders hunched, as good as a confirmation in Winry's eyes.

With a deep sigh, the young woman slapped the tray containing the sparse mush the hospital excused as food on the table beside Edward’s bed and plopped into the visitor's chair. Edward tensed at her close proximity, but Winry, long a childhood friend, would not be deterred.

"Why haven't you talked to him?" she insisted gently, but steel laced her voice, brokering no evasion. Edward, long used to her iron spine, understood when to dig in and when to fold lest she pester him endlessly.

"I tried."

"Edward, it's been days. Try again."

Edward’s lungs tightened and his eyes stung, another of the violent swings in temperament that he’d been weathering lately, and he whipped around, ignoring the sharp report of pain from the stitches in his side. "I TRIED!" he snapped. For a moment, his eyes flashed a fiery gold before fading back into a dull ochre. "I tried," he whispered. "It was like he couldn't hear me at all." 

The young woman sighed and had to agree with Edward's assessment. She’d known Alphonse since birth and this sullen, monosyllabic mood was completely unlike him. Even she could only get a few noncommittal responses when she’d arrived a few days before.

"Oh, Ed…" Winry only knew a little of what happened in Lab Five, but it was enough to know how horribly it had all gone wrong. She didn't think she would ever forget the moment when she received a call from Riza Hawkeye, a woman she met only briefly the two times she’d visited Central. In a grave voice, Hawkeye informed her of the bare minimum of what happened, clipped tone suggesting that there was so much more but as a civilian Winry didn’t have the clearance to know.

What she did say was more than enough.

Alex, gone. Alphonse, broken. Edward, badly hurt.

By who? Why? What had happened? Frustration and fear had curled within the young woman's gut. She was always in the dark, always waiting for that next call that might or might not be the news that her friends–damn near brothers–had gotten nearly killed_ again. _ She’d stormed to Central, righteous fury and spanner as her weapons of choice, but that all drained away the moment she saw Edward.

Wan, broken, Edward had stared at her with dulled eyes, completely alone and near unrecognizable, looking as though the world had crashed down on his small shoulders. Sails of righteous fury deflated, Winry had walked in the room and taken Edward gently in her arms. No tears leaked from the boy, so Winry cried for them both.

By the time she got there, Alphonse had already left the room, and no amount of questions on her part would rouse him from his self imposed silence.

"Why would he do this?" Winry mumbled rhetorically, not really expecting an answer. She got one regardless, wincing as Edward replied caustically.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, voice cracking through the sarcasm. "Maybe it's the fact that I put him in a damned suit of armor. Maybe it's the fact that I _ always drag him down with me _ every time I step out the door." As he spoke, more pain filtered through the apathy in his rising voice. "Maybe it's that I couldn't protect my little brother from being _ eaten by a monster _ or that I let Alex get taken away from us or that I created–" Edward cut himself off sharply with a strangled moan, biting through his lip until a small bead of blood leaked from beneath his sharp teeth.

Wide-eyed, Winry lifted a hesitant hand to his pinched face. Edward twitched, a heavy moment hanging between the two of them as he struggled with something behind ochre eyes. It made Winry ache to think that her childhood friend had been through so much hurt that he could barely accept physical comfort from someone he trusted most, but she waited patiently, knowing that more than the distance he protected himself with like his own suit of armor, he needed _ this _. After a solid moment in which Winry seriously wondered what she would do if he rejected her touch, he capitulated and allowed it, releasing his lower lip at her gentle insistence. She ran a warm finger over the small cut, wiping away the blood, what would normally be painfully awkward between them something natural and necessary in the quiet moment. A light blush dusted Edward's cheeks, giving color to his pallor and that should have been endearing, but Winry only felt sad.

"Enough," Winry whispered, drawing his eyes back to her own blues. "Enough," she said louder, more firmly, and pulled back. Standing to her feet abruptly, she backed away and crossed her arms, staring a shocked Edward down with a challenge. "I've had enough! You and Alphonse are brothers and I will not tolerate this any longer." Imperiously, she pointed her ever-present spanner at Edward who straightened, eyes going comically wide. "YOU! EAT!"

Edward's hand moved, almost without his consent, and he grabbed a sorry looking bread roll from the tray beside him, taking a large bite under her demanding gaze. "That food had better be GONE by the time I get back, Edward Elric, or so help me," she threatened, wrench waving in the air dangerously close to the younger man’s nose, who had no choice but to agree or lose it.

Winry nodded decisively before spinning on her heel, long golden hair snapping behind her like a whip. She may not have been there for her friends when they needed her most, but she was here now, and this–a foolish rift in their relationship when they were so much stronger together–_ this _ was something she could solve.

"Where are you going?" Edward asked, voice muffled by disgustingly dry bread.

By the time he choked out his question, Winry was already stalking down the hall, various hospital staff leaping out of the volatile woman's way. "All of it, Edward!"

The shaken alchemist gulped harshly and stuffed more bread in his mouth, self-preservation instincts taking over before he even registered the order. He blinked slowly in bewilderment as his long-time friend disappeared out of sight, leaving a trail of bemused staff in her wake. His gaze snaked over to the still full tray of bland food and he groaned but knew better than to disobey. Soon enough, though, his starving and neglected body took over, no longer caring what the food tasted like as Edward ate for the first time in days.

* * *

It was quiet up here. So quiet. White clouds drifted lazily overhead as a gentle breeze carried them along. Alphonse Elric rested against the nondescript wall next to the entrance to the roof, gazing at the clouds that he couldn’t block out with his lidless vision and observing with limited senses the wind he couldn't feel.

Alphonse tried to clear his mind as his second oldest brother had taught him. He imagined he could breathe, just for a moment imagined he wasn't just an empty shell incapable of movement any longer, tried to block out all thoughts…

Painful memories intruded once every few seconds, but Alphonse pushed them down with an effort. No, he couldn't think right now. Thinking would only bring him more pain and confusion…

But of course, the way he was now, crippled and immobile, there was nothing to do _ but _ think. Alphonse let out an unnecessary sigh as he became once more wholly incapable of blocking out his whirling thoughts.

Barry the Chopper's mocking voice intruded on his mind, the other soul trapped in a suit of armor plaguing him with endless visions of needling doubt.

_ How do you know you aren't just an imitation? _

"No, it isn't true…I'm Alphonse Elric," he replied to his memory. And he _ did _ believe that. There was no way that everything he’d experienced was a fabrication, not when he remembered the touch of their mother, his childhood, the moments between when Edward wasn’t there and couldn’t have possibly known about unless Alphonse told him. Alex couldn’t have been Edward’s true brother, not when Alphonse knew him so intimately, had bonded with him so many times and witnessed how he longed for his past life. Such an elaborate scheme simply made no sense, not with how much the three of them suffered for their goals. He felt foolish for even allowing the lunatic in the armor–a murderer, by his own confession–to get under his skin like that.

But still, there were things Alphonse couldn't remember, and sometimes he couldn't deny that he didn't feel quite…there. It may very well be that something in Alphonse was damaged when he’d been torn from his body. Maybe...maybe not all of him made it back through the Gate. It was something he’d never considered before, but what if part of him was left behind, perhaps the part that remembered that girl from Resembool who had supposedly been his friend or that night on the isle Izumi had left them on that Edward kept joking about but Alphonse for the life of him could not recall? For all he knew, he could just be some sort of echo of the Alphonse Edward once knew, a deteriorating shell as hollow as the armor that had inadequately served as his body for the past few years.

Doubt and conflict swirled through Alphonse’s soul, made all the more stifling for his inability to move. It was agonizing, infinitely worse than the time he and his brother had tried coffee for the first time as children and had practically buzzed out of their skin no matter how much energy they expended, only to crash heavily hours later. Alphonse kept waiting for the crash, wanted it if only to finally _rest,_ but there was nowhere for any of the negative emotions to _go _aside from wiggling his helmet around like a lunatic or screaming pointlessly into the air. He may as well have been the battered piece of furniture that Lust had made of him in that demoralizing moment when he’d felt more objectified than he had in his entire life. He wanted to stand up and run, to break something, to turn around so he could face the wall and bang his hollow head against it, but he couldn’t. _Move_.

The circular thoughts just kept coming. He’d been unable–_ unwilling _ –to respond to Edward when he’d tried to reach out before. Feelings of uselessness and dejection and even a little bit of mistrust had figuratively choked him when he gazed into his brother's worn and sad face. Alphonse just felt so irrationally _ guilty _ . To make matters worse, he _ knew _ he was being irrational to think that he was so infallible that he could have possibly made a difference in what happened when they’d been so severely outmatched and underprepared. Edward had had to face all of that by himself, sacrifice his soul and his morals alone, and Alex had been taken right out from under them before Alphonse even registered what was happening. Alphonse wished he could have done something, anything, but in the end, he’d been as useless as they.

Those thoughts had been torturing him to no end for days while his unnatural body denied him sleep. And the thing was, he didn't know how to make them stop.

A loud bang interrupted the depressed boy's musings and a puffing Winry stormed onto the discolored gravel of the roof. She threw her head side to side like an enraged bull before spotting Alphonse.

"Winry…?"

_ "Alphonse Elric!" _

"Ah! Yes?" Alphonse replied immediately, apprehension lacing his voice and shocked thoroughly out of his dark mood.

The fuming woman pointed her wrench threateningly and despite not being able to feel physical pain, Alphonse still respected the wrench of his childhood friend. That, there, was a rational fear. "I have _ had _ it with your moping. You are going to march back in there and talk to your brother!"

Alphonse deflated, shock giving way to annoyance. "If you haven't noticed," he said bitterly, "that's not possible."

Winry seemed genuinely taken aback for a second, glancing up and down Alphonse's ruined form, before seeming to rally. "NO. No more excuses. You've been brooding for _ days _ and I will see you two make up or I will drag your sorry butt down to Edward's hospital room _ myself!" _

"That won't be necessary," a husked voice came from the door and both Winry and Alphonse startled as Edward eased himself outside. He was hunched over, the wound in his side still causing him a great deal of pain, and Alphonse couldn't help the thrill of panic at seeing him up and about so soon after so brutal an injury. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to react, and when Edward's pained eyes met his, Alphonse looked away.

"Edward," Winry gasped in distress, immediately going to the injured boy's side. "What are you doing up! Your stitches–"

"Will hold," Edward snapped, waving Winry aside. His sharp gaze bore into Alphonse, and Alphonse fancied he could almost feel Edward’s soul pressing in on his own, though he knew it was impossible. He only had that kind of connection with Alex, and Alex had left a gaping chasm with his absence, one Alphonse knew wouldn’t be filled till he was back at their side.

"Al," Edward pleaded gently, and it reminded Alphonse of quieter, more peaceful days. "Please, talk to me."

"Why should I?" Alphonse said, voice dark.

"Because I'm your brother, dammit," Edward retorted angrily, the emotion only thinly veiling the panic in the set of his jaw.

"Are you? Are you really?" It was as if he was listening to himself in the third person, unable to control his own voice. He didn't look, but he didn't have to, to know the pain his words would cause Edward. He didn’t even know what he was saying, just that he wanted Edward to hurt as much as Alphonse hurt.

Which made no sense. Alphonse’s mind swirled with turmoil, wishing Edward would just go away before he could say anything more that he didn’t mean. This was why he’d left in the first place, but now Edward was here and Alphonse had barely _ begun _ to settle his feelings.

Winry gasped. "Al, how could you say that? Of course Ed is your brother!"

"Am I his real brother? Am I Alphonse Elric? Did Alphonse Elric even _ exist? _ " He turned his gaze onto Edward, who visibly flinched, pupils barely a pinprick of black on wide eyes. "You attached me to this suit of armor, didn't you? Did you also create my memories?" He glared at the ground, barely keeping his voice steady. "After all, memories are just data you can look up like a cabinet of files. As talented an alchemist as you are, you could have made me any way you wanted…" No, stop, he didn’t mean it. Why was he _ really _ angry? It wasn’t this. This didn’t even make _ sense _.

"Alphonse," Edward choked, "That's not–"

But Alphonse continued ruthlessly, unable to articulate what he really felt but it was so much easier to consider Barry’s words true than to think about what was really bothering him. "Alphonse Elric was never a real person."

"Al, what–" Winry tried to interrupt, but she was cut off as well.

"Back before we stormed Lab Five, there was something you wanted to tell me, wasn't there, my so-called brother," Alphonse said coldly. "That was it, wasn't it? That I'm not real! That I've never been real! I can't remember parts of my past because they never happened! My memories and my soul is fake, something you created! That's what you wanted to tell me, isn't it?"

"Al, that's not what he was trying to tell you," Winry snapped, "He was trying to ask–"

"Stop lying to me!" Alphonse shouted.

"I'm not," she yelled back, "You and Ed and I have been together since birth!"

Still, Edward remained silent, shock painted all over his face. No, no, why is Edward here, Alphonse couldn't face him yet–

"And what proof do you have? Pictures? How can I believe that when Alex looks exactly like that boy with Edward! How do I know he wasn't the one who–"

"Stop," Edward finally spoke, and Alphonse did, choking back the many hurtful barbs he wanted to hurl, armor vibrating with terrible emotion. "So this is what you've been thinking about this whole time?" He stepped forward. "That you weren't real? That I just created you to be my _ plaything _?"

No. No, Edward didn’t get it. "Why won't you answer the question, then? Unless it's true!" Alphonse felt panic well up within him, crowding his soul. He wanted to be able to move. He couldn't move! "I'm just an empty piece of metal! How can I continue living this lie!"

"Enough!" Edward finally shouted. He kneeled down and got right into Alphonse's metal face. "How can you think that all of this was a lie? That Alex was a lie? Did you think he just made it all up about his home, about wanting to get back? When you connected, were his emotions fake?”

Alphonse reeled, emotions a maelstrom he couldn’t escape, the safe harbor of the eye he’d been drifting in disrupted by his brother before he could wait out the storm, thrown into the raging sea without warning. “No,” Alphonse said weakly. No, of course he didn't.

"Did you think," Edward continued, voice choked, "That I made you up? Fabricated your feelings? Made up _m_ _ om _?!"

“NO,” he said, firmer. 

“Then what the _ fuck _ to do you mean, because I don’t believe for one second that you actually think that badly of me,” Edward shouted, slamming Alphonse into the wall. He worked his jaw for several seconds, and Alphonse was shocked to see moisture gather in his eyes. “Or maybe you do think that poorly of me. Do you hate me now, Al? Is that what this is about?”

"What…?" Alphonse whispered.

Edward's shoulders began to tremble, head thumping against Alphonse's chest, face hidden as he took shelter against Alphonse’s gaze. "Do you hate me?" he repeated. "I have to know. I wouldn't blame you if you did…"

"That's...what you've been trying to ask me?" Alphonse suddenly felt more confined in his own body than ever before, because he wanted to wrap his arms, his _ real _ arms, around this idiot brother of his. He had been so _ stupid _. All this time, Edward was worried that Alphonse would blame him as if he didn't share an equal burden. He had let Barry's words get between them and let his feelings lend credence to complete lies, growing a wedge where there was none. He may not have had the deep empathic connection with Edward that he had with Alex, but Alphonse and Edward had a connection all their own; that of blood brothers who grew up together, who knew each other inside and out. That could never be fabricated. His answer was obvious. "I could never hate you, brother." Edward's breath hitched at his words. "I'm sorry…"

Taking a deep, bracing breath, Alphonse allowed his gaze to drift to the sky. “I guess...I guess I’m just _ sad. _ I’m upset and _ disappointed _ because we’ve been chasing the philosopher’s stone for so long and we found it, actually _ made _ one, and it was all for nothing. There was no ‘truth hidden within the truth’, just a dumb trap. What have we been _ doing _ all this time?” A low, choked sob echoed in his remaining shell, and he was at least a little grateful that even without a body he could still cry. “We’ve wasted so much time and effort on something we can never attain and...Ed, without that stone, how am I ever going to be human again?” That. That was what bothered Alphonse the most. He hated that his brother had been taken from them, hated that Edward would still have to suffer with automail for the rest of his life, couldn’t even _ process _ all of the lives the philosopher’s stone had destroyed and their part in it, but….Call him selfish, call him whatever you _ want _, the fact that he would never get his body back was what caused him the most pain.

Edward sighed, long and low against Alphonse’s chest. “Do you think we should give up?”

Alphonse’s eye caught on a particularly heavy cloud, twisted into shapes more contorted than the others and ready to let loose its burden on the world below. “...I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

He huffed, breath leaving a ring of mist on Alphonse’s chest plate. “No, I suppose not.”

Heavy silence fell between the two of them, and though a few drops of water hit Alphonse with soft _ plinks, _ the storm inside had quieted enough for him to simply enjoy his brother’s closeness. A small scuffle to the side reminded them both that they were not alone. Edward glanced at Winry before pushing himself upright. “Well, if we’re going to continue with this mad quest, then I guess you’re going to need a new body, yeah?”

“You think?” Alphonse lifted his chin, his own particular expression of rolling one’s eyes. 

Edward smirked, a shadow of his former attitude. “Hey Winry. I need you to do something for us.”

"Oh," Winry ribbed, though her eyes glimmered with relief, "besides repairing you two's relationship?"

"Heh, yeah, besides that." Edward’s gaze hardened and Winry sobered in response. "There isn't enough of Al's original armor to fix him. I want you to build me something."

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes walked meanderingly down the halls of Central Hospital, deep in thought over the recent revelations in Lab Five. The black-haired man's expression was so grim, so unusual on his perpetually cheerful face, that even those staff who knew him removed themselves from his path. Hughes peered intently through his thick rimmed glasses at the floor under his striding feet, but he didn’t see much, looking inward. He was on his way to hopefully visit someone who could finally shed some light on recent unsettling events.

What he and his team had found...it wasn't pretty, to say the least. After the events leading up to the breaking in and concurrent rescue of the Elrics from the supposedly abandoned fifth laboratory, Hughes had gotten the unenviable (self imposed, unless one counted Roy breathing down his neck) task of investigating Lab Five. It was unauthorized, of course, but in the mayhem of the last couple of days, Mustang and his cabinet were able to hold the brass at bay, Roy taking most of the heat for the break-in. Needless to say, he was quite busy.

Hughes knew he hadn't much time, so he got down to business right away, barely going home in the interim. Interrogation of the guards posted near the building turned up nothing but claims they’d only been following orders, so that had lead nowhere. They hadn't even been specifically assigned to watch the entrances, so their commanding officers weren't necessarily suspect. Or at least they wouldn't be, if not for the damning evidence within.

What was inside the building itself...Hughes was no alchemist by any means, but even he knew to recognize the signs of the science used corruptly. If the blatant signs of human transmutation weren't enough, then the bodies were.

He paused in his musings brought him abruptly to his destination with him barely noticing. Second Lieutenant Barret– a tall, black haired soldier– greeted him with a raised eyebrow and a lazy salute. Vaguely amused as always when coming into contact with the enigmatic investigator, Hughes returned the gesture.

"Report," he said quietly. "How are those two doing?"

"Sir," Barret dropped his salute and resumed his languid position against the wall, crossing corded arms over his chest. "Major Elric's condition has improved, and he has been able to stay awake today. There was a brief incident yesterday evening when he left his hospital room to speak to his brother on the roof."

"Oh?" Hughes mumbled, rubbing his chin. As far as he had been informed, Alphonse had yet to speak to anyone.

"Yes, sir. I kept an eye out, but he returned a few minutes later without incident. Alphonse followed shortly after with the help of Havoc when he stopped by."

"Hmm," the head of Investigations mused. "Good to know." Hughes flashed Barret a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder before continuing down the hall. "Good work."

Unamused, Barret merely scowled, an unusual expression on his perpetually impassive face, and stepped in front of his superior officer. "Sir…"

"I know, I know," Hughes waved him off, already falling back into his contemplative mood, though a small indulgent smile remained on his face. "I'll give you a full report this afternoon. Right now I need you to keep an eye on these boys. They've already been attacked multiple times right under the military's nose..." That and Edward was likely to run off on his own again at the first opportunity if he wasn't closely watched.

Barret moved out of the way without further protest, though he still looked vaguely troubled. Hughes left, assured that he would stay. Barret was one of the best in the investigations department and one of his most trusted. The young soldier had vociferously protested the guard assignment, quite put out at being left out of the proceedings at the lab, but with Mustang and his crew holding the brass at bay, Hughes was few in friends he could truly trust. Barret had had a close friendship with Alex Elric and his loyalty was assured, something Hughes counted on now that it was clear that Alex was at the center of all of this for some reason. That, and Barret had an extremely tenacious nose for a mysteries and got weirdly passionate about pursuing them. Hughes smiled fondly. Once this investigation really ramped up he would need that nose.

At last Hughes reached the hospital door behind which Edward had been sulking alone for days. Without further ado he swung it open, plastering a large grin on his face. "Edward, hi!" he exclaimed, stepping inside with a wave.

His entrance went largely unnoticed save for a now seemingly responsive Alphonse, who merely swung his eyes to the door. Edward sat upright in his hospital bed, tray on his lap and completely focused on something he was working on, pen dancing wildly over a large paper. He seemed oblivious that anyone had even entered the room. Likewise, Miss Winry Rockbell was standing over his shoulder, studying the page just as intently. Hughes couldn't see what it was from there, but became immediately distracted by Alphonse before he could snoop.

"Hello Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Alphonse said politely and Maes was momentarily taken aback by his optimistic tone.

"Well hello there, Alphonse. Feeling a little better?"

"Yes," the boy nodded, though he still had a hint of sadness in his countenance. The man really couldn't blame him for that, considering recent circumstances.

Hughes walked in curiously, firmly closing the door behind him. "I would have thought Edward would have fixed you by now. What gives?" He looked over at the boy in question, still pouring over that paper of his and completely ignoring the man.

Alphonse glanced over as well. "I'm afraid there isn't enough of my armor left to restore it."

"Not enough?" Hughes mused. "Can't you just use any old metal?"

"Yes," Edward spoke up finally, though he didn't pause in his work. "I can use any metal to repair him but…"

"It won't be as strong as the original armor," Alphonse piped in. "Constructing steel with alchemy will never be as sturdy as that created in a forge."

"That means he'll be a bit fragile, and besides that…"

"Brother and I talked about it. We want to try to build me a new body."

"...Is that even possible?" Hughes asked dubiously, amused as always by the boys' habit of finishing each other's thoughts and thoroughly pleased to see that habit returned.

"I'm...not entirely sure," Edward said, finally looking up from his sketch. The second he did, Winry snatched the paper from his tray and held it up to the light, face intense with concentration. Shooting her a vaguely annoyed look, the blond elaborated. "In theory, it should be exactly the same as using scrap metal to recreate his body, only we would have to remove his soul seal from the rest of the ruined material and attach him to a new vessel."

"And that's different because…?"

Edward grimaced at his youngest brother, uncomfortable. Alphonse shook his head, radiating exasperation. "You worry too much, brother." He turned to Hughes who observed the byplay with a raised brow. "The seal is what holds my soul to this world and when a piece of that body is destroyed, I experience what I think of as a 'backlash'. In essence, it feels like the part of my soul that controlled the destroyed piece snaps back towards the seal."

"If we don't do this carefully," Edward said slowly, "it might damage Alphonse's soul."

"I don't think it will," Alphonse said firmly as if he’d already said it a hundred times.

"You don't know that, Al," Edward snapped back immediately. "For all we know, you could be injuring it every time a part of that body is damaged."

"I'm not going to change my mind, brother."

A tense silence filled the room, only broken by Winry who mumbled something about Edward's terrible drawing skills. "Oookay," Hughes finally drawled. "I'm guessing this isn't a popular decision."

Edward crossed his arms and scowled. "I wasn't against the idea at first, not until I really started thinking about it…"

"I won't change my mind," Alphonse repeated stubbornly. "It isn't just that the remade armor wouldn't be as strong. I… I want to look more human…"

He trailed off and Edward's face became pinched while Hughes' mind lit in sudden understanding. "I see…" He grinned suddenly, changing the subject abruptly. "So Ed, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," the boy said recalcitrantly, crossing his arms over his chest. The man was tempted to roll his eyes. Of course he was.

"Really?" Hughes said brightly. "'Cause you look like hell! I gotta say, Ed, I'm liking the new haircut but you could really use a trim. I know, Gracia is good at that kind of thing! I'll bring her over–"

"Hughes," Edward said exasperatedly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The investigator was very glad to see it, as the last time he had been here Edward had been comatose with grief. Whatever happened between the brothers seemed to have lifted both of their spirits despite the grave situation. "What do you want?"

"Right, right," Hughes said, cutting off his rambling. He pulled the guest chair up and sat in it heavily, letting out a tired sigh. He leaned forward and Edward sobered as well, sensing the change in mood.

"About Lab Five…"

"You have news," Edward interjected swiftly, gaze intensifying. Alphonse clanked to attention as well.

Hughes opened his mouth to respond, then abruptly sat back and patted his stomach dramatically. "Miss Rockbell," he said loudly, drawing the attention of the young woman who currently sprawled on the floor, sketching wildly. Winry looked up, annoyed at the interruption. "Would you mind finding Barret out in the hall and rustling us up some lunch? I sure am starving!"

"Yeah," Edward said, catching on and piping up before Winry could refuse. "And none of that gross hospital stuff. If I have to eat another dry bread roll I think I'm going to be sick.”

Winry's eyes softened, although she still looked vaguely suspicious. "Yeah, alright," she said slowly, standing and brushing off her pants. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Thanks Winry, you're a lifesaver," Edward grinned, genuinely grateful. Winry smiled back, clearly heartened by the sight.

"Yeah, yeah."

Once the young woman left the room, the mood dropped considerably, tension verily dripping off the two boys. "Did you find him?" Edward persisted, though he didn't sound like he expected good news.

Hughes' eyes closed and he carded his fingers under his chin. "No. There was a trail up until the exit, and then it's as if they just vanished. I'm sorry."

Edward exhaled in disappointment, but no real surprise. "Of course not."

Hughes watched closely as the young alchemist's expression stormed over. "As far as the official report goes, we have decided to pin all of the collateral damage on Scar. You spotted him and chased him to Lab Five, where he broke in and you followed. The brass seem placated for now."

The boy grunted, frowning deeply. "Convenient scapegoat," he commented. "Have there actually been any recent sightings of the maniac in the last few weeks?"

"Not that we know of. Roy's monitoring it closely, among other things. Like you said, convenient." Edward hummed but didn’t comment further. Hughes sighed. "Ed, I need you to tell me what happened."

Shutters fell behind Edward’s eyes, the small crease between his brows that always indicated he was lying appearing. "...How should I know? I passed out."

"Don't give me that. We've found bodies that are no doubt chimeras," Hughes pressed, "and some rather sophisticated equipment that I can't help but think was in use only recently. I don't know much about alchemy, but I know a human transmutation circle when I see one." Edward's shoulders twitched and he looked down at the sheets, expression tight. "Ed, what the hell happened down there? Just tell me what you saw."

A tense moment passed as Edward seemed to struggle with whether or not to trust Hughes. Hughes tried not to be hurt by his obvious reluctance to confide in him and sat patiently, understanding on some level that Edward and Alphonse had a hard time trusting anyone outside of their trio, especially with the most trusting of the bunch missing. It was what got them in so much trouble on so many occasions. He knew that if he pressed Edward would only withdraw further. He just needed to be patient... Still, Hughes almost turned to Alphonse to try his luck with him when Edward finally answered. "Homunculi," he whispered.

Hughes' brows lifted as one. "You're kidding me," he said just as quietly. "As in, artificial humans?"

"Yes."

"But...I thought that was only a theory."

"No," Edward said adamantly. "It's no theory." He looked over at his younger brother and for a moment, the two seemed to communicate silently. Hughes remained quiet, observing.

"We know it's not," Alphonse said softly, "because we made one."

"What do you mean?" A mere second later, Hughes answered his own question, eyes narrowing. "Alex."

A split hesitation, then Edward nodded, expression deeply troubled. "Yes. Alex…"

"We theorized," Hughes said, covering his brow with his hand, "that Alex was somehow the result of your transmutation...but a homunculus…?" Silence fell heavily in the room, each contemplating recent and past revelations. Eventually, Hughes broke the silence, dropping his hands. "So these others. Were they interested in Alex because of what he is?"

"That's what that woman, Lust, said," Alphonse muttered, sullen.

"And this Lust, is it the same woman who murdered Mr. Tucker?"

"Yes." 

"And who attacked Alex once before in Dublith?"

"I...yes," Edward frowned. "How did you know about that?"

Hughes raised a brow at him and the boy conceded the point with a huff. "So now we know why these...homunculi have been after Alex. At least partially. Did they mention what they wanted him _ for? _"

The young alchemist frowned deeply, anger sparking in his eyes. "Not specifically. _ Lust _ ," he said the name with disgust, a poison, "said she wanted to _ save _ him."

"Save him from what?"

Edward sighed deeply, and Alphonse answered for him. "Alex was dying." He looked out the window. "She said he was incomplete without the philosopher's stone; the 'heart of the homunculus'. Or rather, their power source."

Hughes paused a moment to take that in, not quite sure how to respond, or whether he even wanted to ask his next question. Edward continued before he could regardless and he turned back to the solemn boy.

"They tried to convince me to create a philosopher's stone using the thousands of gallons of red water stored there."

"Red water…" Hughes said, not quite understanding.

"It's made through mass genocide…" Edward whispered, no longer seeming capable of holding himself upright. He sunk into the bed by increments, the hard cot somehow swallowing his small frame until Hughes was half convinced he intended to fuse with it.

The investigator's lips pursed and he suddenly felt much, much older than his mid-thirties. What were these boys doing to him? "Ed...there was no red water in that room when we arrived…"

Edward’s shoulders hunched damningly and Hughes cursed violently in his head. Outwardly he remained calm, but something must have shown on his face because Alphonse began defending his brother immediately.

"They were going to kill me…" Alphonse said brokenly. "The large one was eating me with some strange acid and they forced brother to–" He cut himself off, no longer able to continue.

Hughes closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. When he opened them, they were without judgment. How could he, when he had his own many skeletons haunting his closet, at least partially responsible for sins just as heinous? No, he had no place to hold these children higher than he held himself. Cripes, they must have been so, so scared. When he opened his eyes again, he was a much younger man, his broken best friend dropping a loaded gun to the floor where Hughes had struck it. Hughes’ mouth went dry. He opened his mouth once, closed it, then tried again. "They used it on Alex, I presume."

"...Yes. And then they took him," Edward responded, having regained his voice. "But that wasn't all they wanted. They referred to me and Alphonse as 'sacrifices' and told us that they were keeping us alive for their sakes. Also, Alex was told that they were being led by one who created them. We don't know much more than that."

Edward pulled out a few more sheets of paper from his bedside and began drawing, speaking as he went. "A guardian trapped in a suit of armor, labs for human experimentation, the homunculi, the arrays for the philosopher's stone, and," he paused in his scribbling, looking Hughes seriously in the eye, "one of them was disguised as Tim Marcoh, whose home we found ransacked not two weeks ago."

Hughes stood, pinching the bridge of his nose and placing a hand on his hip. "This is getting serious, all of this business. And it's all about a little red stone."

"It's been serious for a long time," Edward said without humor. "The homunculi, the red stones that have been popping up everywhere, the Ishvalan Rebellion where the stone was supposedly used as a weapon; it's all connected somehow. We're just not sure _ how _."

The investigator looked between the two boys, noting the deep shadows beneath Edward's eyes and the nearly tangible distress radiating from Alphonse. He let out a small huff and a smile, breaking the tension somewhat. "Thanks for the info, Ed, you've given me a lot to chew on. I'll take over from here. Why don't you two get some rest and worry about yourselves for a while." Edward's small smile and visible droop in his shoulders felt like a victory to Hughes, who patted the exhausted boy on the back. If he could relieve them of only just a small bit of their burdens then Hughes would do everything in his power to make sure they never carried a worry again. Of course, that wasn’t possible with all that they’d seen and done, and it left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. None of this should have fallen on these kids, not with all of the capable adults that should be sheltering them from the harsh realities of this world. "Where are you going from here?"

Edward slumped back, letting his eyes close. "Well, first we have to get Al in working order. We don't have any leads on Alex at all yet, so we’re going to Rush Valley to build him a new body. Then…"

"Then I'll have some leads for you," Hughes said firmly, earning another tired smile. "You just worry about Al for now. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"I'll have Gracia come by with a pair of scissors before then," he said brightly over the sound of Edward's exasperated moan. "Now, now, Ed, you can't go around looking like a vagabond forever! You'll thank me later." With that, Hughes bid them both good afternoon and quietly closed the door behind him.

Slowly his smile dropped as he walked back down the hall, even more troubled than he’d been that morning. Barret was waiting for him, an expectant tilt to his brow.

"Barret," Hughes said darkly. "Are you ready to get started?"

"Of course," the soldier replied, falling into step beside his mentor. "I thought you'd never ask."

\---

Back in the hospital room, Edward's eyes opened slowly, face falling in an all too familiar grimace.

"You didn't tell him everything," Alphonse chastised without heat.

"What, that we are the very lure that might bring the homunculi to us?" Edward smiled humorlessly. "It's best he doesn't know or he might interfere. If those bastards are going to use us as a 'sacrifice' for something, then that means they'll be keeping an eye on us. Not only that, they’re the ones putting the rumors about the philosopher's stone out there. If we find the source of those rumors…

"We find them, and maybe Alex," Alphonse finished, drawing a fond smile from his older brother.

"Right. Rush valley happens to be on the way to an Ishvalan camp in the south. It’s rumored that the Ishvalans created a philosopher's stone of their own during the rebellion, but they don't believe in alchemy. My guess is they have another way of creating it."

"So either it's a new lead to the stone or another rumor forged by our targets."

"Exactly."

Alphonse looked out the window, spirits lifting somewhat. "I can't wait to be able to move again." Edward knew it wasn't just mobility he was talking about either. It was the idea of moving forward with their quest after what seemed like an eternity standing still. Every day they sat idle was another day that Alex could be enduring who knows what, and another day that Alphonse had to suffer this form.

"Yeah."

Winry chose that moment to return, blinking in surprise to find that Hughes was no longer there. She looked down at the food in her hand, frowning. "You just missed Hughes," Edward said by way of greeting. "He said I could have his share though."

"Sure he did, Ed," Winry said, not impressed. Still, she handed over the two portions, not doubting for a moment that Edward would put it all away by himself. "So about those parts we need…"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Edward said, throwing his hands behind his head and smiling smugly. "How would you like to make a trip to Rush Valley?"

A squeal and a grateful blonde in his lap was all the answer Edward needed, the automail enthusiast overwhelmingly excited to visit the birthplace of her trade. "Oh Edward, Edward, I love you!"

"Ah! Okay, okay, watch the stitches!" Edward laughed, hugging his friend back with a pleased flush. He grinned at Alphonse, who tilted his head in amusement. It was time to move forward.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex wakes.

I woke by degrees.

The first thing I sensed was silence. Going through life, I can say that I’ve experienced quiet. Waking in the earliest of the morning hours when even the crickets slept. The tall tree in the secluded thicket that I prided myself for climbing as a child. The abandoned house I once slept in for a dare. The absolute seclusion of diving into the ocean, forced to close your eyes for the stinging of the salt and sensing the  _ vastness _ of the water pressing in around you.

In all of those places, I could truly say I felt alone, that it was quiet. But where I was now, this was  _ silence _ . In those places, I could at the very least hear the whisper of the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the settling of an old structure, or the eternal rush of the currents. Here...there was nothing. No comfort of familiarity nor any sign of life or proof that I even existed.

The second thing I noticed was that I was no longer in pain. I’d been hurting for so long mentally and physically it was as if I’d been deteriorating for years. I guess in a way, I had. The absence of that pain–in fact, the absolute well-being I felt physically for the first time in forever– was euphoria all its own. 

Movement came to me next. My body twitched as I woke, experimentally moving my toes, fingers, hands. I shifted my back, sensing that I lay on something that felt almost intangible, a pressure against my form that held me aloft rather than any true surface. I lifted a hand, marveling at the absence of pain, and opened my eyes.

I saw nothing.

Or, to be more accurate, I saw nothing but my own hand hovering above my eyes on a backdrop of pure, blinding white. I inhaled slowly, filling my lungs with stale air, devoid of smell– which somehow seemed incomprehensible–and then released it, hearing the rush of air from my own body, the only sound in this place. Wherever I was. 

I sat up slowly. Or maybe I sat up at a normal speed. I couldn't place it, but it was almost as though time was warped here. Can one...mute time? Was time even relevant in this place? Senses didn't seem to be…

Memory came to me last as I looked down at myself–what else was there to look at, after all–and saw my legs clad in soft black fabric. I ran my hands over the unfamiliar silk and couldn't help but compare it to so many things at once. It was black like the dress that clung to the soft curves of the woman I most despised in this world, black like the void I was taken into by Truth, or Father, or whatever that bastard wanted to call himself. 

My memories returned in increments. 

Black, like the terrible hands that drew me into the darkness. Black like...like my lost lover's eyes when the light left them forever.

The sob startled me, yanking straight from my chest as if some beast tore the air from my lungs with greedy hands, no more voluntary than getting punched in the gut. It sounded incredibly loud to my ears in this silent place that I now recognized as the empty void where the Gate of Alchemy appeared before me for the first time, where my hope to return to my happiness was taken away from me forever. The second sob was  _ painful _ , breaking through the lump that strangled it, like forcing yourself to swallow something too big to process, burning down, down, until it was forced back up. The third was no more than a silent scream as I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my noticeably bare shoulders and ducking my head behind curled knees. Tears slid down my face in warm streams, but even that felt muted to me here.

For a moment–for eternity?–I mourned my loss, trembling alone in the endless light. I remembered everything now; the pain inflicted on me by both Lust and my incomplete nature, opening my eyes to find Edward about to do something unforgivable for our sakes, reaching towards him and paying his price when I failed to stop him…

And finally, Lust forcing the philosopher's stone inside of me even while I begged for death, for this terrible nightmare to finally be over…

Slowly, I became aware that I wasn't entirely as alone as I thought. Voices began clamoring in the silence, at first ignored for the sake of my grief–who was making that racket, why can’t they just leave me alone–but then growing louder in volume until I could no longer block it out.

I lifted my head in shock and looked around through the moisture in my eyes for the source of the din, but saw nothing. The noise pressed in around me, smothering like a thick blanket. At first, I didn’t realize what was happening as I clutched at my chest instinctively, a harsh ring beginning in my ears.

Then it became all too clear as something within me broke like a dam and the murmurs became a terrible compounded  _ scream _ .

Emotions of  _ thousands _ slammed into my soul like a brick wall, whatever had been holding them back as I woke utterly shattered. Pain, terror, and  _ misery _ intruded on my mind and for several seconds I couldn't even understand that it wasn’t just inside my head, that the screaming was coming from  _ me _ .

"Ahhha...AAAAAAAaaah!"

The emotions writhed, sentient, but not. There was no individualism to them, only what felt like magnified impressions of thousands upon thousands of the last moments of human lives ending in violence, then _ trapped, trapped, trapped, where am I, can’t get out– _

Their absolute  _ misery _ clawed at me with sharp talons, a starving bird of prey tearing me apart with vicious hunger. I cringed beneath the onslaught of what I realized could only be the souls trapped in the philosopher's stone. But understanding brought no relief. No matter how I howled into the void they would not relent.

"STOP! Please, you're….HaaaAAah….tearing me apart…!" My screams tore at my throat till I tasted blood, only to heal a split second later and start the agony anew.

I pressed my forehead against the surface below me, caught in that loop for what felt like a day, a month, a year,  _ eternity _ . Then something else began to press into my tortured awareness, another pressure that I could swear I've felt before. It built and built until it became almost as unbearable as the voices inside of me. I panicked. I couldn't...control– _ too much!  _

I threw my head back and howled at the pressure's peak, "STOP!"

The emotions stopped so suddenly I felt it like a physical backlash. I gasped wildly, clawing at my chest for several seconds as my soul seemed to reassert itself, almost as if it had been nearly forced out of my physical body, condensed down and then reinflated.

"Wha–ah–" I gasped. The foreign emotions fled along with the strange pressure, leaving me in the state I first awoke. But no, not quite. I could still feel the presence of the souls but it felt as if they just...flatlined. For a few moments, that's how they remained, but as I focused on them the murmuring began again. I panicked, trying to withdraw as they oppressed my soul slowly once more.

"NO!" This time the pressure came sooner and I grasped onto it, pushing it forward like a shield. "Enough!"

Just as before, the souls quieted and I exhaled gratefully as the strange pressure dispersed again. Okay. Okay, so don't focus on the philosopher's stone's souls unless I want to be overwhelmed. I took a long, shuddering breath.

Finally, I became calm enough to analyze what just happened. I rubbed at my bare arms vigorously, hoping to be distracted from wandering in a dangerous direction again. I hadn't ever thought of it before, but my reaction to the philosopher's stone should have been obvious. As a homunculus–I cringed away from the word in my mind, no longer able to deny that I wasn't human–I could sense others' emotions and in some rare cases, project my own.

So...now that I was 'complete' I...what? Could  _ control _ others' emotions–assuming the displaced souls could be considered human? It was an unsettling and frankly terrifying thought, but I couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly grateful. Maybe I only had that control over the souls in my chest? It hardly mattered with no way to test it. What mattered was that without that extra ability I may have been torn apart, consumed by the tortured souls until I became one of their number.

I could feel it, the philosopher’s stone, a solid weight resting in the center of my chest thrumming in time with my slowing heartbeat. I bit my lip and gently placed a hand over my chest, closing my eyes. I hadn't had any choice in the matter, but that didn't stop the overpowering guilt clawing at my throat. The worst part was that...it didn’t feel unnatural. It felt like any other part of me, like a lung or liver. 

No, that wasn’t quite right. I’d been in pain for so long that I’d thought it normal, but now that I wasn’t it was as if this– _ cancer _ had been removed from my body, replaced by wellbeing that seemed impossible. I felt...wonderful. Whole. At least, physically so.

But at what cost?

I shook my head sharply and stood, trying to get my mind off my misplaced guilt before I became overwhelmed again. Likewise, I repressed my grief. There was no room for that now, not with the precarious control I just barely clung to with the tips of my shaking fingers.

Right. I needed to find out where I was. I was alone, with no idea of how I got here besides a vague recollection of passing out in Lust's arms. So, logically, it was she who put me here.

...But where was 'here'? As far as I could see, there was nothing. No Gate, no Truth, and it…I couldn't really describe it, but it felt  _ different _ than when I faced Truth. Before there was this energy, a presence, but now it was completely devoid of anything at all. Experimentally I walked forward, but though my foot–bare, I noticed for the first time–touched the surface beneath me and my body shifted forward, there was no physical sensation of having moved. It was thoroughly unsettling. I took a few more steps with no discernible difference. My brows furrowed in distress as the invisible walls of my mind pressed down on me in the silence.

I sat with a huff, wrapping my arms around my legs, comforting myself with my apparent physicalness. How was I going to get out of here? Where were Edward and Alphonse? With a flash of concern, I suddenly remembered the grievous condition I’d last seen them in and my eyes widened. Were they okay? Did they make it out of that awful place? I couldn't really recall, as everything had been the shade of blood, but hadn't Edward been injured?

Edward's anguished face, tinted in crimson light, flashed in my mind and I was startled as a sudden flush of pure, unadulterated  _ fury _ spiked through me. My eyes narrowed. Edward. How  _ could _ he? 

Before I could drown in my ire I became distracted as someone encroached on my solitude. I sensed her before I saw her and scrambled to my feet as Lust stepped out of nothing, a white veil parting around her lascivious frame.

Lithe and imposing, she stood a half a head taller than me, all pale skin and unattainable beauty wreathed in black clothes and waves of long hair. It almost hurt to look at her against the fathomless white. With her came a flood of unpleasant memories and gnawing fear, like an old bruise that couldn’t mend because of repeated abuse–eventually, it might callous and scar, but beneath would always be a constant ache that would never quite heal.

Red lips quirked in amusement and my anger redirected to the woman in front of me like a piranha to blood. I stepped back and growled, finally feeling as though I was moving now that I had something to reference.

"Lust," I rasped, voice still broken from my screams prior despite my healing ability. I turned to her with my fiercest glare, pouring all of my hatred into a single look.

"Now, now," my perpetual tormentress simpered in that husky voice of hers, rose eyes practically dancing in delight. "Is that any way to greet your savior?" She gliding over the nothingness like a wraith and I couldn't help but take another involuntary step back in ingrained foreboding.

"Stay away from me!" I growled, a wolf without teeth, bringing my hands up to bear and acutely missing the weight of my favored weapons in my grip. Not that it would do me much good. She’d already proven that over and over again.

Lust halted and raised her hands in surrender, smug expression lingering. "Very well," she allowed. She folded her hands demurely–insultingly, she hardly found me a threat–and began to walk around me instead, keeping a calculated distance like a keeper of a disagreeable animal. Her gaze lingering like a physical caress as she glided, hips swaying.

I followed her closely, not daring to let her out of my sight, keeping my body angled lest she attacked. Although, why would she? She finally had me exactly where she wanted–in her grasp and at her mercy. I was just that, a pet here for her pleasure, and she could do anything to me now,  _ anything, _ and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. My blood buzzed with adrenaline as I turned, heart and stone thrumming as one.

"How are you feeling, my Empathy?"

I twitched at the name. "What did you call me?"

The woman brought a delicate finger to her lips, expression falling into innocence as she momentarily paused in her circling. "Didn't Father tell you?" She smiled toothily while realization dawned in my eyes as I remembered Truth's words.

I looked down, momentarily ignoring her presence. That's right.  _ He _ called me that.

I snapped back to attention as I suddenly realized Lust was slipping from my sight. I spun around and inhaled sharply to find her standing directly in front of me, close enough to feel her body heat radiating off my skin. Before I could react, a gloved hand brushed down my bare arm and the other wrapped around my neck, pulling me against her with an iron grip.

The woman's soft chest pressed against my own as she looked down into my startled eyes, body frozen in fear. "I'm so glad you were able to overcome the stone, love. For a little while there I thought the souls would overwhelm you." Her cold fingers continued to trail against my skin and I shuddered, whether out of fear or disgust or some other poisonous cocktail of emotion, I couldn’t discern. "I would hate to lose you only having just obtained you." The absolute possessiveness in her voice sent an unsettling thrill of horror down my spine. Her breath ghosted against my lips as she leaned down, deliberately slow. Regaining my senses, I pushed away from her violently, stumbling back several feet and trying to get as far away from her as I could on unresponsive legs.

I stared, wide-eyed, as she languidly folded her abruptly empty arms underneath her generous chest, unperturbed by the rejection. If anything, her cold eyes crinkled in amusement, smirk still firmly in place. My stomach roiled with acid that threatened to come up and I suddenly empathized with a bug impaled by a needle, trapped against a board in my dying throws for the viewing pleasure of a collector.

"I see you still need a little time to adjust, Empathy. Shall I come back later?" She turned away with a flick of her sweeping black hair. Panic gripped me.

"NO! Wait!" I threw my arm out and stumbled forward, attempting to stop her.

I wasn’t fast enough.

With one last coquettish glance over her shoulder, Lust disappeared through the veil, leaving me utterly alone once more. "No! Where is this place! Let me out! LUST!"

I screamed pointlessly into the white, my tormentress already long, long gone.

"LUUUUUST!"

Just before I could crumple into myself in despair, her alluring voice drifted through the heavy air. "I'll return, my Empathy. Wait for me patiently." Her mocking laughter was the last thing I heard other than the sound of my down enraged screams for a long, long while.

I stepped towards where she disappeared, then stepped again. Suddenly I was running, sprinting into the emptiness with no indication that I was moving at all save for the pounding in my ears and the rasping gasps from my lungs, the sound swallowed into the abyss without an echo.

\---

Lust visited me several more times in the next few...days? Months? I couldn't tell. Time didn't seem relevant here and the only way I might have been able to determine its passage would be changes in my own body. Unfortunately–or perhaps fortunately, if I was being optimistic–there were very few.

I didn't need to eat or sleep at all. It might have been this place, or maybe it was the vast well of energy inside of me that seemed to fuel all of my earthly needs. Either way, there was no need to eat or drink, to rest my eyes or body, and thusly there was no need to even pass waste. Should I be grateful for that? In all honesty, I wouldn't have minded making any sort of mess, gross as it was if only to have a reference to which I could compare my movements. The only proof that I moved at all was the wear I began to notice on the clothes given to me by the homunculi because not even sweat or oils on my skin were produced anymore. It was absolutely disorienting and utterly maddening.

Was this place even truly physical? Was I? Was I perhaps in a world inside of my own insane mind? At this point, I wasn't about to discount anything.

I felt like a doll. In one moment of desperation, I even clawed at my arm to feel the spark of pain and see the red droplets of blood seep before it was once more healed away in a flash of crimson alchemy just to prove I was still alive. I regretted immediately after the fact, however, disgust welling up for having done my self-harm. That was an incredibly dangerous road and no matter how dire I felt my situation now, I could not let myself walk it. Gently drawing my hand over the already healed wound, I made a promise aloud that I would never do it again. At the very least, I owed it to Alexandria, owed it to everyone who once loved her to take care of whatever of her was left inside of me.

Even if I wasn't that woman anymore and never would be again. Truth had forever taken that path from me.

But no. It hadn't been Truth, had it? The supposed deity may have interfered, but even he had admitted that he only reached his insidious hand  _ after _ he became aware of the transmutation that brought me here.

Edward was the one who brought me to Amestris. He, after coercing his brother to help, destroyed me in the very beginning before Truth even knew of my existence. And our youngest brother...no,  _ his _ younger brother….he didn't stop him. Alphonse  _ knew _ in his heart that what they were about to do was wrong, but he still…!

Bitterness and anger like I had not felt since I was forcefully brought to this world swirled inside of me, an anger that I thought I had long forgiven the Elrics for. Maybe I had, at one point, until I saw what really happened that night all those years ago. 

That was before I saw the truth; that on that night, my family was slaughtered utterly. 

It was relentless. After all we’d been through, all we’d seen together and learned of each other, I could not let it go. Not now, not after I watched as they made the same damn mistake a  _ second time _ . Hadn't they learned  _ anything? _

Edward put his hands to that damn circle and Alphonse couldn't stop him, and they–they didn't just destroy me and my family this time. I could feel the souls howling in agony, the same agony I felt a but a hundred- _ thousand _ fold. How? How could Ed think that either Alphonse or I would want him to do that, would want him to participate in the mass genocide of thousands just to–what? SAVE us?  _ It wasn't worth the price _ . I would have died first–even wanted to! Why, why, why–I cringed and clutched at my chest as the souls in my stone reacted to the tumultuous emotions. Forcefully, I took a deep breath and shoved the thoughts away, trying to think of anything else.

But there were no distractions here. I merely turned to another unsettling matter.

The disassociation with who I was went further than no longer identifying as Alexandria. I didn't know if I could even think of myself as Alex anymore. Even the boy I had become–brother of Alphonse and Edward Elric, student Orkan and Izumi Curtis and the Flame Alchemist, friend and ally to so many in this world–no longer seemed to be who I was. I couldn't think of myself as those boys' brother anymore, not after what I was forced to become, couldn’t think of myself as Alex, a surrogate nephew to Orkan, or a dear friend to Roy, two people who’d been able to repeatedly drag me from the dark. All of the familial bonds and friendships were all for  _ him. _

I was no longer that boy.

All of the changes I've been going through, the resentment building as I began to become more and more inhuman, had done more than make me distance myself from everyone I loved. It made me doubt my very humanity and the genuineness of my soul. It was as if I was becoming something  _ else, _ something monstrous, as my strength increased and my eyes changed and I began to lose control.

This dark mood and circular thoughts tortured me during my time in the nothingness, only perpetuated by the negative emotions of the stone inside of me, catching me off guard with its intensity every time I let my shields down. I was getting better at controlling it but...It was hard. Every time I lost focus for even a moment I would be consumed by their misery, and even though I knew it was only a fraction of the volume the stone no doubt contained, it was still enough to drive me mad before I could gain control again. This mysterious new repressive power I had was the only thing standing between me and insanity. I fervently thanked any deity that might be listening that I wasn't given the power to read minds or something. It would have been infinitely worse to share every trapped soul's memories.

Oh, wait, the deity of alchemy was responsible for my empathy powers in the first place. Bastard.

God, I'm a mess.

That was how Lust found me for the fifth time. Once more I struggled with the souls inside of me, arms wrapped around my folded legs and focus drawn inward to hold them at bay. I sensed her presence–both with relief that I hadn't been left to rot for eternity and an equal amount of loathing and inexorable desire for her to be  _ gone _ – but as I had the last three times she visited, ignored it. It was clear the homunculus wasn't intending to release me from my prison until I acquiesced to her demands, no matter how I screamed at her.

Like that was ever going to happen.

"Empathy…" Lust whispered silkily, intimately. I blocked her out and clenched my arms tighter, but I knew it would be useless before long. I could sense her getting closer to me, her presence so obvious against the void when in the physical world I couldn't feel her at all. I could almost hear her sharp heels clicking against the floor, though I knew it was only my imagination. There was nothing real here but us.

"Empathy," she said again, this time with an obvious pout. She stopped right behind me, so close I could feel her heat radiating off my back. A gloved hand gently slid through my loose hair and I resisted the urge to flinch away. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "You can't ignore me forever, young one," she continued, a simper in her voice. Her touch became bolder, cold fingers sliding down my neck to tease over the pounding of my pulse. 

I couldn't stand it any longer.

"What do you want?" I snapped, a glare set firmly on my face as I slapped her hand away. I grimaced at her pleased expression, that insufferable look she wore every time her taunting garnered a reaction.

Instead of answering, the woman joined me on the floor much too close for comfort, tucking her shapely legs beside her. The seductress lifted a delicate hand and moved a long black strand of hair behind her bare shoulder, the black tresses seeming to nearly cling to her pale skin in a caress before fluttering down her back. Red-violet eyes locked onto mine in a 'come hither' look holding such intensity that I had no illusion that had I been attracted to the fairer sex I would have been her slave long ago. As it was, I had a sneaking suspicion that the homunculus possessed an additional power to her strength just as I did, most likely the ability to incite desire in any human she came across.

But I wasn't human and her powers no more worked on me than mine did on her. I glared balefully, unimpressed, though I couldn't help but shudder at the raw lust she directed towards me. It wasn't a look I had ever seen on any suitor who had pursued me in the past. It was as if her desire was more than physical, as if she wanted to  _ own _ me.

I didn't know if it was I who inspired this in her or just her nature, but I sincerely did not want to find out. Her regard made my skin crawl.

Examining my reactions closely but not seeming to be at all put out by them, a slow smile pulled at her painted lips and she finally answered. "I want what I've wanted since I witnessed your creation; for you to join us."

With some effort, I bit back the scathing retort I usually had for her 'want'. It had gotten me nowhere in the past–however the hell long I've been trapped here– and I was getting really, really tired of this place, tired of being imprisoned with only my treacherous thoughts to keep me company.

"You keep saying that," I said slowly, strained, reluctant to even be talking to this creature after all she’d done. I studiously ignored the glint of triumph in her eyes, barely holding in the abuse I wanted to shout. "You keep saying that you want me to join you, but you've never told me who you people are and what you  _ want." _

Pearled white teeth flashed between crimson and I couldn't help but notice with some small distraction that they were as flawless as the rest of her. Man, I've been trapped here too long… 

"Tell me something, Empathy…" she said, ignoring my question. "Are you angry?"

I glared, eye twitching with barely contained vitriol. What kind of ridiculous question was that? Of  _ course _ I was angry. It was probably the only emotion I could successfully hold onto in my unstable state.

Her eyes glinted and she leaned forward, imploring. "Go on, then. Tell me why."

"Why?" I whispered in disbelief, voice shaking. As if summoned, the very anger we spoke of burned the back of my eyes and any semblance of control I clung to fled the building. I let go of my legs and jabbed my finger into her face threateningly. "Why am I angry? You know why, you smug  _ bitch _ ." My voice deepened until I almost didn't recognize it in my anger, my newly gained baritone taking the fore. "I was pulled here against my will, pulled into this freakish body and put through so much SHIT by YOU and by EVERYONE ELSE in this insane world!  _ I never wanted this!" _

"You're angry at those who brought you here," Lust said swiftly, not backing off an inch. Her voice was infuriatingly calm, to soothe a wild beast. It only made me angrier. "You're angry because control of your life was taken from you."

Fury burned in my veins, and my hands clamped onto her shoulders tightly, nails digging into her fair skin. "What  _ right _ do you have to say that! YOU put this damn thing in me! You–"

"But it wasn't me." Lust grabbed onto my hands with immense strength and I gasped in pain and surprise, having foolishly forgotten her power in my anger. She pried my hands off of her and pushed me back into the floor where I landed with a shocked gasp, pinned. "It wasn't I who created you. It was those  _ humans _ ."

I flinched from those words, unable to deny them. She latched onto my weakness remorselessly. "It was those boys who brought you here and those humans who were so  _ selfish _ as to rip you from your life just to fill a void in  _ theirs _ !" I stared as her voice dripped with an unforeseen pain, seeping into her eyes as she hovered over me. "It was those humans who destroyed everything you once had because they couldn't accept death and didn't care who they hurt to get what they wanted! They used you as a  _ substitute  _ for someone they could never get back and once they realized that you weren't good enough, they  _ tried to get rid of you! _ "

I cringed, mouth agape, as she fell into a ringing silence. She was nearly on top of me now, and I could feel as her shoulders trembled. I got a distinct feeling that it wasn't just me she spoke about anymore, and yet her words struck a deep and painful chord within me. Lust released my hands, her own falling to her sides and her eyes closing.

We sat still for several seconds and I was entirely unable to respond, having no idea how. What she was saying...it sounded like it was from experience. What was going  _ on?  _ Unbidden, my hand lifted slowly towards her, almost as if to comfort, before abruptly dropping as I remembered who precisely sat in my lap. Before I could even contemplate getting her the hell out of my space, her eyes opened slowly.

I gasped at the emotion I saw there. This was not what I had expected, not the vicious woman who had impaled me and fought with me and took my freedom. There was...sadness in her eyes, a longing I had only seen reflected in my own. She almost seemed…

A second later it was gone and Lust pulled back, resuming her previous seductive pose. Still, despite the return of her composure, her voice remained gentle when she finally spoke again.

"What you want, what was so cruelly taken from you–we can give it back."

"And what's that?" I whispered blankly, completely thrown. I felt numb and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. In that precarious moment, I stood on a knife’s edge. One more upset to my understanding, just  _ one more thing, _ would send me falling onto a path I did not want to go down, either direction inescapably ending in my ruin. Unfortunately for me, what she would say next would cement that fate.

Her eyes glimmered, warmth standing out starkly in the colorless surroundings where even her skin appeared white. They captured me with that same naked desire, not just for me this time, but for something abstract, unattainable as the moon. "Your humanity."

\---

Deep in the tunnels beneath Central, a small flame flickered in the dark. The fire did nothing to warm the moist cold, struggling and wavering wildly just to stay alight while the damp pressed in. Neither of the beings occupying the space needed nor particularly desired the small light, but it was alight all the same, for the woman who came to meet them preferred it that way.

Envy sat on a section of a fallen wall, unconcerned with the apparent lack of secure structure of the tunnel around him. There was very little that could kill him and if anything, it might be a fun distraction to dig himself out. Especially if it could cause those silly humans aboveground some chaos. He kicked a pebble by his foot sulkily, knowing it wouldn't go over well with Wrath. Such was the boredom that was his life. The slim homunculus tapped his fingers impatiently, paying no mind to the lump of a companion he was stuck with. He flicked his long spiked hair over his shoulder and tried to keep himself from just up and leaving in a fit of pique. That bitch better hurry up or so help him…

"Lust?" The other being in the tunnel whispered the name of his master with longing and Envy snorted in disgust.

"Yes, yes, she'll be here soon," he said to the whiney creature. Honestly, he had no idea why Lust kept this disgusting thing around with her. It was repulsive and quite insane.

Gluttony tilted his fat head to the side, large malformed finger stuck in his mouth as always. Envy could hardly imagine what the pathetic lump had been like before the fool had allowed his nature to destroy him. It was a wonder Father didn't just kill him and start over. Wouldn't be the first time…

"Now, now," a voice came from the darkness, "no need to look so upset, Envy."

Envy rolled his eyes. "Well, look who decided to show up."

Lust sauntered out of the darkness, all perfect curves and seductive beauty that never failed to send a shiver of disdain down Envy's back. Stupid smug...He leaned back and thrust his hips forward to show off his lithe form, feeling the perpetual need to compete. Lust's eyes sparkled in derisive amusement and Envy ground his teeth, irritated.

"Lust!" Gluttony, the oaf, broke the tension between them with his exuberance to see 'his' Lust arrive. Both homunculi barely glanced at him, Envy with disgust and Lust with resigned indulgence, before ignoring him, as always. It wasn't as if he ever had anything intelligent to add to the conversation anyway.

"So what gives?" Envy said with a smug grin. "Any luck with the kid? Or are your  _ charms _ not good enough this time?"

A brief flash of annoyance glinted in Lust's eyes but it was immediately overtaken by such self-satisfaction that Envy's smile dropped. "Oh, I'm not having any trouble with that one." 

"Then where is the brat if you have him under control?"

"He rests at the foot of the Gate." 

Envy couldn't help but wince, though his lips upturned in pleasure at someone else's misfortune. "Ouch. That's pretty harsh, even for you. How much time has passed for him?" Even he thought that was cruel. They’d all spent time there in the beginning, waiting for a Gate that would never appear for the likes of them. To be there for more than a moment in a place where time stood still would be torture.

"Well, let's see," Lust said, tapping a finger to her lips innocently. "Now, how many days ago did we get the boy to create the philosopher's stone…?"

The question was rhetorical and Envy laughed uproariously at the cruelty of it all. "Hah, that kid must be going nuts!" He chuckled and forward with a broad grin. "So tell me, my devious friend. Has he come to heel yet?"

Lust closed her eyes demurely as if remembering a beautiful memory. "I believe I've almost gotten through to him…"

"Too long," Envy pouted. He considered the crumbled wall beside him with some disdain, thinking. If he left it up to Lust, the woman would play with the poor fool forever. A slow smile lifted his features. "Maybe what he needs is a little extra incentive. I've noticed a couple of rats in the sewers lately. Ishvalans."

"So?" Lust dismissed. "The boy would hardly care about that."

Envy raised his pointer finger in the 'wait' sign before waving it back and forth smugly. "You're trying to control him with his anger, right? Well, I spotted someone with the little Ishies that might juuuust tip the scales."

"Oh? And who might that be?" Lust said, interested.

Envy’s eyes glinted with delight. "The one they call Scar."

Slowly, a smile pulled at the beautiful woman's lips, devious as her partner's. That...just might do the trick. Someone who had attacked him before, someone who he could hate without reservation.

Oh, yes. This was getting interesting.

* * *

Roy Mustang stared out into the disgustingly cheerful day from his office window, squinting into the light with a pained grimace. He pinched the bridge of his nose between tired eyes and tried to will his exhaustion away. It was a rare moment of peace between the chaos of the last week and he was immensely grateful for it. The colonel hadn't slept well, not since...well, he didn't like to think about it. He turned his blurred eyes to the overly white courtyard through his window, the reflection of the sun bright and abrasive.

While Hughes had been investigating the frankly disturbing condition of the 'abandoned' fifth lab, Roy had been facing his own battlefield. To say the very least, the higher-ups were not happy. The official story told was that Scar had infiltrated the lab for reasons unknown and Edward and his brothers had taken it upon themselves to follow him. The subsequent rescue only put Roy in a heroic light, ruffling the feathers of many among the brass who believed his swift ascension in the ranks to be a threat to their positions. Still more unsettling were the generals who scrutinized him with more than just envy, but with something to hide. There was simply no way to tell friend from foe at this point...

Roy knew that there was blatant corruption in the ranks and had no idea just how deep that rot went. Both he and Hughes had been involved in a long-standing investigation of the strange military movements of violence towards surrounding nations, most recently the upheaval in Lior, which Roy had only just been able to keep from Edward. It went further than just a warmongering or desire for more land, however. In more than a few cases, it seemed...random, as if there was no reason to start conflict other than for the sake of conflict. Neither he nor Hughes had yet to figure out why. His best friend had been keeping him updated on the results of his investigation in Lab Five, a place Hughes had long-held suspicions of, which pulled up a rather unsettling list of military leaders involved in unethical and downright illegal activity. There was not yet evidence pointing all the way to the top and Roy cautiously reserved judgment until there was. If the Fuhrer were involved...this country would be in much dire more straights than Roy believed. But as of now, there was no evidence and Roy would not put forth an accusation until the claim was irrefutable. He could only hope that his fears were unmitigated.

As for the rest: a major general, brigadier general, colonel, and several research alchemists...all directly involved and all killed in the past fifteen years. But with the evidence unerringly pointing to a continuation of the experiments...

Roy was pulled from his dark thoughts by the ever more familiar growl of his newest companion, a chimera by the name of Jäger. He turned slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust back to the darkness of his office, and peered around the obscene amount of paperwork covering his desk–an unfortunately commonplace sight– to regard the small animal. Jäger sprawled out amongst a ruined stack of paper, disregardless of the importance of the documents. His long scaled body was feline in build but had a reptilian exterior. Lately, his emerald green scales had dulled to a sickly brown and Roy was resigned to the fact that he would be cleaning up the creature's shed skin in the near future. He wondered idly just how big the reptilian cat would grow...maybe it was part lion or komodo dragon. Its long tail, curled like a chameleon, lent credence to the former, as no large lizard had a tail for climbing trees. But really, Roy was no alchemist to judge. He didn't know much about bio alchemy after all...could be a combination of many.

Another growl and an agitated swish of said tail snapped Roy out of his musings once again and the Flame Alchemist rubbed his eyes with a low groan. Jäger's attention only meant one thing–someone was at his office door. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to deal with another pompous General. If he had to listen to one more reprimand about his foray into the Lab, he would set someone on fire. It was flattering that most of the higher-ups found him a threat to their positions, just as equally concerning, and most definitely annoying.

The sharp rap of Hawkeye's familiar hand against the door caused Jäger to hiss and leap from the desk, hiding underneath it swiftly. Vaguely amused by this behavior, Roy was just glad he didn't have to train the beast to do it. He had managed to keep him secret from the brass so far and would like to keep it that way.

"Enter," Roy said with tired resignation, swiftly sweeping the ruined pile of paperwork into a messy heap behind his desk, out of sight of the door. With a quiet creek, Hawkeye stepped inside, clipboard clutched to her chest and troubled expression on her face.

"Sir," she said softly, for once conscious of Roy's discomfort, causing the colonel's lips to twitch fondly before falling back into blankness. She had been going easy on him the last few days, taking on much of his executive work, for which Roy was grateful. He’d been focusing on damage control and her support was very much needed to keep further scrutiny off his back.

"Who is it?" he asked, tempted to draw the words out into a whine.

A small smile quirked Riza’s lips, though her eyes remained strained. "It's Edward, sir. He's come to report in before he leaves."

"So soon?" Edward was already able to walk? He shook his head, not terribly shocked. After all, it was Fullmetal they were talking about. The boy couldn't rest to save his life. Roy huffed in amusement. Irony abounds. "Send him in."

With a small bow, Hawkeye left the room. A second later, Edward entered, a noticeable hitch in his step. Roy watched with a critical eye as his charge walked slowly to his desk. Edward admittedly looked a bit better, with more color in his cheeks then he rightly had before, but still looked like hell. His hair was now cropped neatly against the back of his head while his bangs remained untouched beside his face. The style made him look decisively older. The haunted look in his shadowed eyes didn't help with the image, making him look beyond his fifteen years. He was once again dressed in his favored red coat but had switched to a looser fitting pair of black pants, no doubt to put less strain on the bandages still covering his wounded hip. 

Against his chest was a pendant that Roy didn’t recognize. About four inches across, it looked vaguely like a heavy metal locket. Inscribed on the steel was a transmutation circle that the older alchemist easily recognized as the inscription for fortification and a powerful one at that. Drilled into the center of the locket was a perfectly round hole that from within glowed a steady red light.

Roy stared at it, puzzled, but dismissed it in favor of Edward, who stopped a bit unsteadily in front of his desk.

"You look like shit," Edward said without preamble, pulling a surprised snort from the older man.

"You're one to talk, Fullmetal," Roy smirked. "I'm no doctor, but shouldn't you be resting? You just had a minor surgery."

Edward grimaced but didn't disagree, and Roy frowned a bit at the lack of characteristic anger. "Couldn't stay one more minute in that damn hospital. Besides, it's time to move on."

"To Rush Valley."

"That's right. I'm going there to get Alphonse a new body."

Roy narrowed his eyes but didn't press. It was between them what they did about Alphonse's situation, but still… "What about Alex?"

Edward shrugged, fatigue pulling at his shoulders and a weariness in his eyes. "Hughes hasn't had any luck finding clues about where they went. We could spend weeks searching Central, but without any leads…"

Roy nodded, conceding the point. Hughes had been combing Lab Five for a week now, and still, there was no sign of the missing boy's whereabouts. It was almost as if he never existed, save for the small bag of possessions he left behind, a chimera pining for his lost master, and a small crumpled note that Roy kept in the uniform pocket, burning against his chest.

"I need to take care of the brother I have left…" Edward said softly. His eyes were downcast, but a second later he looked back up with a customary grin. "Don't burn down Central without me, Colonel Bastard."

"Heh, wouldn't dream of it, shrimp," Roy returned with a smirk, comforted by their usual banter. With satisfaction, he watched as the boy's face darkened with annoyance and idly changed the subject, sidestepping the explosion. "Where is Alphonse, anyway? Surely you wouldn't cart him around in a crate or something."

Edward deflated with a slow hiss, glare melting into nervousness. "Of course not," he said, hand hovering over the pendant around his neck but not quite touching it. Roy's gaze was drawn back to it.

"Ed, you didn't…"

"Shut up! How the hell else was I supposed to do it? He doesn't have legs!" Edward tried to cross his arms but stopped short of covering the pendant against his chest, awkwardly putting his hands on his hips instead and wincing as he brushed his bandages.

"Alphonse is in there…?" Roy stared, fascinated. The scientist in him was half tempted to examine the item closely and he took another look at the fortification circle and the little spot of glowing red light in its center. "Well, that explains why you inscribed enough fortification into it to stop a flying mountain," he mused.

"He can hear you, you know," Edward snapped. "And of course I did. It's not like he can defend himself in this state."

_ "Gee, thanks, brother…" _ Alphonse's voice filtered through the room and Roy jumped as it sounded like it was coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, resonating in his mind rather than heard aloud.

Before Roy could do more than give the pendant a shocked look, a startled yelp and hiss sounded from beneath Roy's desk and Jäger bolted from cover, the insufferable feline clawing its way up Roy's pants and onto his shoulders. The man cringed and thanked his lucky stars that the chimera climbed with sticky paws rather than the formidable claws it kept retracted. "Urgh," he grunted as it wrapped around his neck, tail circling him twice. It glared around the room balefully, low growl in its chest.

Edward raised his brows at the disgruntled animal before letting out a loud guffaw. "That thing's still around? Get yourself a new boyfriend Roy?"

"Haha," Roy intoned, doing his best to loosen the grip around his neck. "Please tell me you're taking your brother's pet with you?"

"Not a chance," Edward said with a grimace of disgust. "I never liked that thing in the first place."

_ "Don't lie, brother," _ Alphonse chuckled, and Roy was at least glad to hear a spark of amusement from the boy who was clearly in a very undesirable situation, even if the sound of his voice made the silly beast grip him tighter,  _ "Jäger's grown on you." _

"Not as much as he's grown on Roy," Edward shot back. "And I don't care what you say, Al, we still can't take care of it. I would just as soon dump it in the nearest forest."

_ "You know how much Alex loves that thing," _ Alphonse said softly.  _ "He would be heartbroken if it disappeared…" _

Edward opened his mouth to snap, but then closed it slowly, taking on a thoughtful air. "Yeah," was all he said.

Roy, clearly feeling that he had already lost, sighed in resignation. "Fine," he said sullenly. "I'll keep the stupid animal. Just make sure when we get Alex back that I never see the damn thing again."

Edward flashed him a smug grin. "You got it, bastard."

"Hn. I don't suppose I could convince you to take along a guard detail...ah, thought not." He rolled his eyes with a dismissive wave at the growing look of rebellion on Edward's face.

"Not a chance! The last guard you foisted on me ended up slapping me in the face," Edward muttered, rubbing at his cheek. Roy couldn't help but chuckle. Ross did that, huh? Well, it wasn't like Ed didn't deserve it for running off as he had.

_ "You deserved it, brother," _ Alphonse reprimanded, echoing Roy's thoughts.

"Shadup, Al. You didn't exactly protest when we left either." He suddenly grinned evilly. "Though it was hilarious when Brosh tried to slap you in the face, too."

_ "Heh, yeah. Wonder if his hand's okay…" _

"Alright, alright," Roy sighed, waving his hand at the ridiculous pair. "Enough with the chit chat, I have work to do."

With a mock salute, Edward turned to make his slow way back to the door, step still painfully hitched but just a little lighter than it had been when he arrived.

"Oh, and Fullmetal," Roy called at his retreating back. Edward looked back over his shoulder, annoyed. "You’re under scrutiny. Be careful."

"Colonel," Edward said, false sincerity dripping from a fake smile. "We're always careful." The look dropped and his words became as serious as Roy's. "If you hear anything…"

"I know. We'll find him, Ed."

With one last flash of his golden eyes, Edward closed the door behind him, leaving the colonel alone with his thoughts. He turned his gaze back out into the blinding white of the day, disregarding the chimera now purring in his ear. Roy placed his gloved hand to the note burning in his pocket, and sincerely hoped he could keep his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, Lust is getting fresh. Yeah, it's not going to get better for a hot minute, at least on Alex's side. How long will he hold out, I wonder...
> 
> And look, I posted on time! Aren't you proud of me :)


	3. Chapter 3

Edward released a long sigh. He rested his head against his hand as he watched the countryside fly by. Heavy on his chest, Alphonse's temporary container bumped every now and then as the train shifted. The metal was warm against his skin and almost seemed to vibrate against his soul with Alphonse's familiar presence. As it was, the constant reassurance that Al was still with him despite his state was the only thing keeping Edward from losing his mind with stress. He grumbled again, wishing Al would let him touch his container, if only for Edward to comfort himself. But after the first few times he blocked Al's sight, or rather the small hole in the center that served as his 'eyes', Alphonse had had enough and threatened to hit him upside the head the second he had his new body if Edward did it again.

"You're doing it again," Winry admonished, not bothering to look up from the draft paper sprawled out over her lap in the cramped space.

"Doing what?" Edward grumbled.

_ "Growling," _ Alphonse accused and Edward couldn't help but shudder in slight discomfort at the way Alphonse’s voice seemed to resonate inside of him rather than being heard. It wasn't like Al's voice disturbed him, it was just...he didn't like seeing him this way, without a body. Edward squirmed inside just thinking about the torment his younger brother must be going through. The extraction process of Alphonse's soul had nearly brought Edward to tears with the fear that he might lose him again. Alphonse's calm reassurances the entire time was the only thing that helped Edward get through cutting the small circle of metal that contained his soul seal from the rest of the ruined armor.

For a split second, Alphonse had stopped responding. It was only a second, but Edward felt like his heart had been ripped out only to be shoved back down his throat to choke him.

_ "Al! Alphonse!" Edward clutched at the small piece of his brother's body, from which he could no longer hear his familiar voice. "AL!" Terror tore through him as his hands trembled and he nearly stopped breathing. NO, no, not my little brother, please, PLEASE, don't leave me alone, I can't– _

_ It was only Winry's firm slap to his face that pulled him out of his sudden panic, finally able to hear Alphonse shouting. "EDWARD! Edward, listen to me, I'm here!" _

_ "Alphonse?" Edward shuddered and gazed down at the seal, the metal warm and resonating in his hands and a familiar voice echoing in his mind. "Al, what happened?" _

_ "I'm sorry, brother. I just needed a moment to adjust. I feel...compressed." _

_ "You idiot! Let me put you back–this isn't worth it! What if–" _

_ "NO." Alphonse's firm denial echoed loudly, cutting Edward off. "This is my choice, brother." _

_ Edward bit his lip harshly, lungs threatening to shrivel up in his chest. Slowly he pushed it down. He knew how hard being that inhuman suit of armor had been for his brother, knew that automail could make him feel closer to humanity and Edward himself than he had in years. He  _ knew _ that, and he would move the world to make it happen. "...Okay." He bit back his fear, for his brother's sake. "Okay, Al. Let's go." _

"I hate trains," Edward said, shaking off the memory and trying his best to hide his discomfort.

Winry was not fooled and glanced at him sternly from her work. "He's going to be okay, Edward. We can do this."

"I…I know," Edward muttered, lightly tapping the precious piece of metal on his chest.

_ "So Winry," _ Alphonse said, attempting to lighten the mood.  _ "How is this going to work, exactly?" _

"Hmm," the young woman responded, looking to Alphonse's soul piece with a reassuring smile. "I'm not entirely sure. As far as the arms and legs go, we can just purchase those and make adjustments. The torso and head though…" She trailed off, using her pencil to scratch at her head. She stuck out her tongue cutely and Edward rolled his eyes. "I think we are going to need to find a blacksmith. Nothing like this has ever been constructed before." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oooh, I can't wait to get to work! This is going to be the automail breakthrough of the century!"

"We can't tell anyone about this, Winry," Edward reminded, glaring out the window. Winry pouted.

"And why not? It isn't like anyone will know what we do with it."

"No means no!"

_ "Guys, come on…" _ Alphonse placated.

The young woman sat back with a huff, stubborn. "We can't hide this project, Ed. It’s going to take at least three people to help me pull it off if you want to get out of Rush Valley anytime soon." Her gaze softened. "We don't have much time. Alex won't be able to wait forever."

Silence fell between the three, all acutely missing the presence of their friend. But Winry smiled after a moment, unable to keep her excitement contained. "Al, your body is going to be my greatest creation! You'll look exactly like a human with clothes on!"

"How are we going to accomplish that, anyway? We're going to have to cover him from head to toe," Edward mused.

"No idea," Winry shrugged, flippant. "That's your job. Mine is to find a blacksmith and an automail mechanic to help with the build."

"Yeah, yeah."

_ "I wonder what I'll look like…" _ Alphonse said wistfully.  _ "I can't wait to be able to move around again." _

Edward and Winry exchanged a worried look, then the girl smiled. "You're going to look awesome, Al, just you wait."

The scenery gradually changed as they headed further south, from forest to craggy slopes and eventually mountainous canyons. When they finally stepped off the train half a day later there was only one thing on Edward's mind.

"Uuugh, it's so hot!" Edward slumped, dragging his suitcase along behind him. "How can this possibly be the birthplace of automail when we’re practically in the desert!"

"Don't be such a baby, Ed. We're hardly in the desert. Besides, there are rich ore mines here that produce the perfect materials for automail." She skipped half a step in excitement, her infectious smile growing with every step they took. Edward gave her a wary glance, feeling as though he was somehow going to regret bringing her along.

True to its name, Rush Valley settled between the walls of a massive canyon, the red of the stone radiating sunlight even as the sun slid behind its walls. Buildings sprawled and stacked haphazardly on the slopes and in the valley itself, none more than a few stories tall. It was hardly the onset of spring, yet the temperature had already surpassed a heat that Edward could tolerate. That was  _ it, _ the second he got they finished their mission he was going to retire to the most temperate climate he could find. Preferably in the next year or so. Yeah, that sounded nice.

" _ Wow, there really are a lot of automail users here," _ Alphonse commented as they wandered into town from the station. Indeed, it seemed as though every third person was fitted with an arm or a leg, each wearing it openly and with pride as though their fits were something to brag about. Edward shifted in discomfort. He had never been quite comfortable displaying his automail to the world. It wasn't really self-consciousness rather than the dark secret behind how he obtained it. He shrugged, though, as he realized that no one loses a limb without having a terrible story to tell. And it  _ was _ rather hot…

"EEeee! Automail, automail, everywhere! Oh, this is like a dream come true!" Winry couldn't keep her eyes glued to one place and Edward idly wondered whether she would end up with whiplash as she rushed forward, whipping her head back and forth. He couldn't help but smile fondly as he watched, however. He always enjoyed making her happy and didn't often get the chance. Ugh. He just knew he would be buying her all sorts of toys on top of Al's new body. He sincerely hoped his combined savings would be enough.

A glimmer caught Edward's eye and he paused, peering into a store window. A large blue gemstone sparkled brightly inside a jewelry display, set in a gaudily decorated band of pure silver, the shine almost blinding. " _ Hey, isn't that one of the stones from Xenotime?"  _ Al wondered aloud.

"Yeah, I think so." Edward couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "I guess they've been doing well if their work had made it all the way out here."

Unbidden, a memory flashed in Edward's mind.

_ It was a couple of months after the events in Xenotime and the three brothers were stopped in a town not far from their next mission. It was a small village that boasted only two hotels but was well known for its plentiful open markets. The segue was a much-needed break for the boys who had been traveling for almost half a year. _

_ Edward and his brothers walked leisurely on their way to find a place to stay for the night when Alex paused. _

_ His green gaze fixed on a stall where a collection of beautifully crafted rings were displayed proudly. "Alex, what is it?" Edward complained, tired and ready to take a long bath after their forced stay on a train. _

_ Their brother didn't seem to hear him, fascinated by the glimmering objects. His expression was unreadable as he walked towards the stall to take a closer look. The boy picked up a simple silver ring with a rouge gem in its center, a small, happy smile pulling at his lips while he admiringly turned it in the light. _

" _ Hello, there," the owner of the stall, a man in his late thirties, greeted Alex cheerfully. "That stone was imported from out of the country, very rare! Are you in the market for a gift for a lady friend, young man?" _

_ Edward watched in puzzlement as Alex seemed to deflate at the proprietor's words. Setting the ring down gently, his smile turned derisive. "Ah, no. I'm afraid I don't have anyone like that. I just...never mind." With a polite nod, he turned away from the puzzled shopkeeper, taking the lead without turning back. Alphonse and Edward exchanged a worried glance before Edward caught up with Alex's retreating form. _

" _ Hey, Alex, wait!" _

Alphonse's voice brought Edward out of his recollection, and the buzz of their surroundings intruded once more. " _ Do you think Alex would have liked it…?" _

"Nah," Edward said, remembering the ring. "I think he likes the smaller stuff." Before he could look at the other pieces on display, a loud squeal drew his attention back to Winry. She stood on the other side of the road, hands pressed against her face in excitement. He wandered over to see what had her so worked up and wasn't surprised to see an overpriced, shiny automail arm set in a display of red velvet. He sighed. Why couldn’t she like jewelry instead like a normal girl her age? It would be infinitely easier to please her. And better for his pocketbook, he dismayed. 

But as he watched her eyes practically sparkle as she took in the fine craftsmanship, Edward had to admit that he liked this side of her too. 

Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

"OH, it's perfect! The newest edition of the God Series! Ed, Ed!" She turned her glittering eyes onto the unsuspecting blond and Edward frowned.

"Winry, come on! You could build an entire automail body twice over with the price they want for this thing. And it's only a forearm," he said sternly.

Winry pouted. "Yeah, I know, quit being such a stiff Ed...Oooh! What's that!"

Edward grabbed her arm before she could wander off again. "Win, remember why we’re here, okay?"

"I remember," she snapped, pulling her arm back. "Look, just meet me at the hotel tonight. I'm going to have a look around and try to find a blacksmith first. You guys just...I dunno, entertain yourselves!"

With that, she dumped her suitcase on Edward and rushed off before the blond could even stutter a protest. Alphonse's chuckle resonated through his mind and Edward could feel his cheeks heat up.

" _ She sure told you," _ he said.

"Shadup, Al! Jeez, what an automail freak!"

" _ You should know better than to get in between Winry and her automail, brother." _

"Yeah, yeah–urgh! What does she have in this thing?" Edward tried to lift the mechanic's case with one arm but had to resort to using two. "How has she even been carrying this around. It's, like, fifty pounds!"

" _ Heh, well, she is a mechanic. She probably brought her tools with her." _

"Yeah, right. More like a dead body if you ask me…"

A half-hour later, and Edward had managed to dump both his and Winry's cases at the hotel. After a second of hesitation, he left his coat as well, knowing he would just overheat if he kept it on. That hadn't stopped him before but...well maybe, just maybe, the atmosphere of this town was making him feel a little better about his automail. After all, he wouldn't stand out, and these people probably knew better than to ask questions. Besides, who knew how long they would have to stay here?

"What do you think, Al? Should we look around?" Edward looked down at the pendant around his neck, setting his now bare hands against his hips.

" _ Yeah," _ Alphonse said, the happiness in his voice infectious. Alphonse's continued optimism was making this whole process much easier. It was nice to know that even in this form, Alphonse could raise his spirits.

"Heh, come on, let's go. There has to be something other than automail to do in this town while we wait."

* * *

Alphonse watched the world go by, perspective swaying drunkenly from the way Edward's stride moved his temporary form. The experience was quite strange, yet he couldn't really bring himself to feel sorry about it. It had been his choice, after all, and to complain now would be counter-productive.

Being within the confines of the small piece of metal made Alphonse feel strangely compressed. He wasn't sure if it was the result of his soul actually having some sort of physical size–which he found to be somewhat of a strange concept–or if it was a psychological reaction to perceiving himself as smaller. His perception of the world didn't seem any different, as he had long since gotten used to the way he 'saw' out of the armor. Even though he only seemed to have one 'eye', his vision wasn't impaired in the least, just how when Alex had covered the eye slots in his armor it hadn't blocked his vision. He still sensed it, but if he focused past it he could block it out. 

It was strange...he couldn't really describe it. Still, there was no denying the fact that while everything in the world was normal-sized,  _ he _ was smaller and thus it was odd to have to 'look up' at his older brother (or, from what he could figure, it was more like expanding his awareness in a certain direction), who was usually so much shorter than him. In any case, he couldn't wait till he had a body again.

He knew he was being selfish with this, knew that there were more important things they should be doing, like getting their brother back or researching the philosopher's stone. But he couldn't help being selfish just this once even if it made him feel guilty. It was just so...his doubts about his own humanity had been so painful and the thought of returning to that form brought him no end of grief even now. It wasn't like automail was going to make him human, but...but Edward had it, didn't he? 

One time, while they’d been between missions Alphonse asked about it.

" _ It's like...I dunno. Even though I know it's not, it's like my automail is a part of me, not just metal and wires. It took a long time, but I've started to think about it as my arm and leg. It's just part of who I am now." _

He’d sounded so resigned and discouraged at the time but Alphonse had found himself envious. No matter how much time passed, he couldn’t see the armor as  _ himself. _ It was too cold, unfeeling...hollow. If Edward could think of his automail as part of himself, then so could Alphonse. 

It wasn't just that. In the armor, he couldn't do such simple things as hug his brothers for comfort or walk through a doorway without knocking his head off or not scare small children when he walked by, or–or–

He was doing it again. That self-pity thing. Alex's voice reprimanded him in his mind, just as he would have if he’d still been there. Alphonse shook it off, trying to harness that optimism he'd been doing such a good job of projecting as of late.

"Hey Al, look. This place looks interesting." Edward pointed out a small shop at the corner of one busy street and another. Unlike the other stores, it didn't look overly crowded. "Xing Imports”, proclaimed a sign above the door, but what really drew Alphonse's attention was the brightly colored robes on display.

"Is that silk?" Edward mused as he entered the shop. "I can't imagine someone wanting to wear such a bright getup."

Alphonse couldn't help but feel amused by that statement, considering just how much Edward loved his flashy red coat. He stayed quiet, however, realizing that it would seem strange to hear a disembodied voice in the quiet and empty shop where it couldn't be mistaken for somebody else.

"Those are ceremonial robes," a voice drifted from within the shop and both brothers looked to the young woman who spoke. She couldn't have been any older than twenty, of eastern origin with long black hair and slanted black eyes. She smiled sweetly and stopped beside Edward who felt a flash of smugness to realize that the slight woman was about an inch shorter than him. "They’re not quite Xingese, but rather a style similar that is popular here in the South where the winter festival is celebrated."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Edward said, touching the bright fabric softly. "They used to have those back in Dublith, remember Al?" His face darkened. "Though we never did get to see it thanks to Teacher's training."

The young saleswoman looked on curiously as he seemed to talk to himself. Her eyes were drawn to the pendant on his chest before looking around the store in confusion. Edward shifted uncomfortably at her scrutiny. "What is it?" he asked gruffly.

"Oh, it's just kind of odd. I keep sensing another chi, but I can't seem to find where it's coming from." She had a hand placed to her mouth, eyes drawn, unsettled.

Alphonse's curiosity spiked. She could sense him? "What is chi?" Edward asked, just as curious.

She smiled. "It is the energy that flows through every person and living thing. As a young girl, I was taught to sense it, though I suppose I'm imagining things right now. I'm sure I would have seen someone else walk through the door."

"Ahaha," Edward laughed nervously. "Hey, what's that?" He moved further into the store, looking around with interest. There was a variety of curious objects ranging from exotic clothes to foreign weapons and a pair of strangely curved knives caught Edward's attention. He was about to peruse them when Alphonse spotted something on the wall.

" _ Ed, wait, _ " he whispered as softly as he could, realizing that the woman was still observing them. " _ Look." _

There was a small alcove in the wall and from within it came a white gleam. Edward walked towards it slowly, getting a better look. It was a white mask, devoid of color save for a small red teardrop below one eye. A simple pattern curved around the eye slits, just a thin line that mimicked its shape and added extra depth to the piece. Its expression was totally neutral, but it felt almost...calm. "Hm. Do you think…"

" _ Yeah," _ Alphonse said. " _ Though the teardrop is a little much." _

"The symbol beneath the eye is the mark of the clan it comes from." Edward jumped badly as the woman snuck up on him, clearly overhearing their conversation. He placed his hand over his heart. What the heck was wrong with him? He never let his guard down this much. The woman went on, heedless of his discomfort. "You have an eye for rare items, sir. This mask was worn by a great warrior from my country."

"A great warrior, huh…" Edward plucked the mask from its setting, feeling its sturdy weight. "I like it." Alphonse couldn't help but agree.

"Ah," the Xing girl clapped her hands together with a pleased expression. "It warms my heart that this will be used once more. A warrior's mask was never meant to rest on a shelf gathering dust." With a knowing look, she latched onto Edward's arm, amused by the soft dusting of red spreading over Edward’s cheeks. "Please follow me."

She led the flustered blond behind the shelves to the back corner of the store. "If you take the warrior's mask, you must bestow it on a worthy fighter. And he must also wear this." She paused in front of a display and both boys looked on appreciatively at what they saw.

Soft black cloth covered a moderately sized mannequin. Its top was hooded, a long black swath serving as both a scarf and a shroud around its neck. The chest was covered in a plated armor as black as the fabric behind it, arms similarly protected. Armored gloves gleamed silver in the wan light. Edward lifted the mask still clutched in his hand to the blank face of the mannequin.

Both Alphonse and Edward seemed to resonate in perfect agreement at that moment. Yeah. This could work. It wasn't anything like what either of them had imagined, but…

As the woman carefully packaged Edward's purchase, she casually stated, "You look very familiar."

"Hm?" Edward hummed distractedly, wanting to talk to Alphonse but hating that he couldn't.

"You look just like a boy I met not too long ago." Edward's eyes snapped up in sudden attention, heart jumping a bit. "Although, he had pretty green eyes."

"You've seen my brother," Edward said excitedly, setting his hands on the counter.

"Oh, yes, it must have been." She smiled brightly. "I sold him a jade pendant for his hair and it matched his eyes so perfectly! I would never forget such a pretty face."

"Oh," Edward deflated but couldn't help feeling a bit amused. "You must have met him in Dublith, then." Alex had shown off that pendant with such fondness when he’d finally returned from that trip. It was still in Mustang's possession along with all of his other belongings where it would be until he reclaimed them.

Before Edward could walk out the door, he was once again stopped by her soft voice. "Take care of that, young man. I can tell by your chi that you are worthy of it." Her gaze became piercing. "All three of you."

Edward shuddered as he finally left the small stuffy store and out into the bustling of the street. "She could totally sense you, Al. I've never seen anything like it."

" _ Yeah, it was weird, all right. I wonder if all Xingese have that ability." _

"Hm," Edward agreed. "I guess we should head back now. It's getting late."

"Hey kid, hold on a second!" Alphonse's vision was jerked suddenly as a large man grabbed onto Edward's automail arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Hey, what's the big idea–" Edward shouted angrily, but his words were dismissed and ignored.

"Oh, wow, I have never seen a model quite like this," the older man enthused, running a finger down Edward's arm. "Hey, Joe, come check this out!"

With alarm, the boys noticed they were gathering a crowd as the automail enthusiast brought attention to them. A multitude of hands passed by Alphonse's gaze as several people attempted to touch Edward's automail. "Ach! What are you people doing, get off!"

"Ah, come on, kid! You can't walk around with a beauty like that and not expect to get some attention!"

For several seconds Edward continued protesting loudly and Alphonse watched on with some amusement. For once he was glad to see his brother get positive attention for something he was usually so secretive about, even if he was practically being molested by excited engineers.

All good feelings were wiped away a moment later, however, when he felt more than saw himself get separated from Edward in a violent yank. He cried out but went unheard over the crowd as the world flashed by in dizzying jerks. 

Wait, hold on! Someone was running off with him. He’d been  _ snatched! _ For several moments, Alphonse couldn't even get his bearings long enough to cry out. He panicked, confused. Where was Ed?! Edward! He couldn't move, couldn't do anything!

"Alphonse!" His brother shouted after him, fear tightening his voice and Alphonse was about to scream…

Both he and his captor came to a jolting stop. His surroundings spun around Alphonse while he tried to regain his equilibrium. He looked upward.

A small hand gripped Alphonse’s broken chain tightly, a boy no older than twelve clutching his vessel to a slim chest. The kid’s pale face was pulled taught in a grimace of pain as a large, masculine hand gripped his forearm tightly.

"Oh, my, what do we have here?"

* * *

Winry's heart raced as she couldn't believe her eyes. Automail, automail everywhere she looked! Whether it was on someone's body or in store windows and mechanic shops, it was enough to send a tingle of genuine excitement through her body. She just couldn't understand why Edward was being such a stiff about this. Winry Rockbell was in her element and no sourpuss was going to bring her down!

She just couldn't help it. Growing up in a small town didn't exactly give many opportunities to experience the finer qualities of her craft. Don't get her wrong, Pinako was a fantastic mechanic and teacher, but one couldn't always improve by studying just one style.

It wasn't just that. Winry paused by a shop and gently placed her hand against the window. Behind it was a simple arm. There were no decorations or embellishments but it was beautiful in its functionality all the same. The person lucky enough to receive it would be blessed with mobility and sense of well-being they had only had with their real arm before whatever tragedy had taken it from them. She smiled softly, immensely glad she came. It wasn't easy being the one left behind all the time. Year after year, she could only watch as her dear friends suffered in silence, leaving her to chase after an impossible dream. It always made her feel useless and impotent to watch them walk away from her, time and time again. But there was one thing that Edward always returned for, the one thing she was talented at enough to bring him back.

His automail.

Now she even had the opportunity to give Alphonse the chance to feel human again and that was more precious to her than all of the automail parts in the world. With a bright smile, Winry moved on, spring in her step, and did her very best to absorb as much as she could in this town while she had the chance.

Eventually, her growling stomach forced her to stop at a small cafe. While she was there attempting to refresh herself from the heat, she inquired around about a blacksmith.

"Blacksmith, huh?" an aging man with an automail hand scratched the back of his head as he thought aloud. Winry’s eyes followed it, a cat with its favorite toy.

"Not just any blacksmith. I want the best!"

The man let out a loud guffaw. "Well then, little missy, you're going to want to find Skyler's shop, not three streets over." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Just don't forget to mind your head!"

With those mysterious words, the young woman was directed to a small shop on the outskirts of town. The building, slightly separated from the others on the street, seemed to be built into the canyon wall, its entrance a dull grey and windows shrouded. Large double doors were thrown wide open, though Winry couldn't see into the dark building with the bright sun blazing overhead save for the occasional flash of cherry red fire glowing hotly before fading back to blackness. A thick stream of smoke drifted from a large chimney and a steady banging could be heard from inside. In a flight of fancy, Winry imagined that the shop looked like the maw of a great beast.

Winry glanced at the paper in her hand and the number etched over the door one last time before squaring her shoulders and smiling widely. She could do this. It was the first step to building Al's body and she would find the best blacksmith in town!

She stepped up to the shop and raised her voice a bit, squinting at the change in light. "Ah, excuse me–"

"REFINED? I'll GIVE you refined!" an infuriated shout stopped Winry in her tracks like a physical force and not a moment later a man stumbled out of the door wearing a terrified expression. He backed away from the shop rapidly as if a rabid animal chased him from its den.

"Master Smith, I only meant–AAAhahaaa!" He screamed as a hammer flew end over end from the darkness and slammed into the building behind him with a startling crunch. Both Winry and the man stared at it in utter shock, the blunt piece of metal embedded into the stone.

"Now you listen here, you ignorant scum," a resonating voice came from the darkness and the man stepped back a couple of paces, face draining of all color. "Automail isn't meant to be a damn  _ embellishment."  _ A tall figure stepped from the darkness and into the light of the afternoon. Winry gasped as she took in the imposing person who was revealed.

Long legs covered in scarred leather met with wide hips and a firm core, revealed by a tight-fitting shirt. A large bust offset wide, muscled shoulders, bronzed skin covered in soot from head to toe. The woman stood at least six feet and had deceptively beautiful face and long black hair, naturally waved and held back by a filthy blue bandana, the same shade as her strikingly intense eyes. Most notable, however, was the hand clenched around a massive hammer, automail up to just above her elbow. The scars above her fitting were horrific, shiny white marks that swirled and converged all the way to her shoulder as if she‘d stuck her arm into an open flame. "Automail isn't beautiful because of flashy engravings or shiny lines. It's beautiful because it is a part of its owner! I only make the strongest metal plates and parts possible and I will not tarnish its integrity with  _ decorations. _ Now get out of my sight!"

With a shriek the man scurried down the road, leaving a trail of dust in his haste. "Tch. I don't have time for rich boys who think automail is a toy. Useless." The woman finally seemed to notice Winry standing aside in awe over the entire display. "And what do you want, little girl?"

Winry jumped, and looked up–and up–until she met the imposing woman's eyes. "Ah, yes," she squeaked, then cleared her throat. "Are you Skyler?"

The woman's face contorted, and Winry took an involuntary step back. The blacksmith pointed her hammer at Winry threateningly and shouted, "That's MRS. Skyler to you!"

"Ah! Yes, ma'am!"

"Hn. That's better." Skyler re-shouldered her hammer and gave the girl a once-over. Unreadable, she calmly stated, "What do you want? I have work to do."

"Right!" Winry squared her shoulders and said as confidently as she could. "I need a commission."

"Didn't you hear me earlier, girl?" Skyler said dismissively, eyes already drifting back to her shop where fires still burned. "I don't do toys. Find someone else." With that she turned her back, already having discounted the young mechanic.

Winry's mouth dropped open and it was a split second before she regained her composure, cheeks burning in indignation. Her voice became higher pitched with anger, but firm nonetheless. "Don't walk away from me!" Skyler paused, looking back over her shoulder in surprise. "You don't even have any idea what I want! Don't you dare just brush me off because I'm young!"

Winry paused, taken aback as Skyler turned bodily towards her with an intimidating glare. Shocked, the young woman realized that she had pulled out one of her larger wrenches without her notice and quickly dropped it before the formidable smith could take that as a threat. Before she could stow it back away, however, Skyler grabbed her small wrist in a strong, calloused hand, examining Winry's palm with a critical eye.

Several seconds passed as Winry’s hand numbed from the firm grip, but she didn’t comment, realizing that she was being tested in some way. Eventually, Skyler released Winry’s wrist and stepped back. "Automail mechanic," she commented, a new assessing light in her eye. Without another word she hefted her hammer and strode back inside, leaving Winry to gape in her wake.

"WELL?" Skyler demanded through the open door, causing Winry to jump. "I haven't got all day! Get in here and show me that schematic you have clutched to your chest so dearly!"

Winry's face broke out into a grin. She wasn't sure exactly what just happened but it seemed that she’d passed. "Yes!" She hustled inside, pausing a moment to adjust to the darkness. She blinked several times and coughed as a wall of heat and dust enshrouded her. The inner space was large, several long steel tables covered in parts and tools lined the center of the stone floor. Behind those, a massive machine supported sanding belts of all sizes. To the right sat a massive open flame forge, the inside glowing cherry red and putting out enough heat that Winry wondered how Skyler didn't get heatstroke just walking by it. By its wavering light, she spotted the woman weaving her way between several various sized anvils, dropping her large hammer on one carelessly and stepping through an open door. 

Winry hastened to catch up but was momentarily distracted by the metal pieces hanging on display along the walls.

Her heart skipped. Always, automail parts were merely delivered to her through the mail and she had never seen a sight quite like this, never really considered how they were made or where. Dozens of automail plates and joints, both finished and still raw from forging, hung on the walls, arranged like armor ready for battle. Though they lacked any kind of decoration, the craftsmanship was phenomenal and every single piece held a unique flare that Winry had never witnessed before. The amount of love and dedication it must have taken to build all of this...it was breathtaking.

"Girl!"

"Coming," Winry exclaimed, jolted from her admiration. She hastily wove her way between anvils, disregardless of the soot that began to cover her clothes, and quickly followed Skyler into the next room. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. This space was completely bare of equipment save for a long white table in its center and a bright light illuminating overhead. Scattered all over the surface was a multitude of incredibly detailed technical sketches. Winry gaped down at them, impressed. "Wow, are you sure you're not a mechanic?"

Skyler chuckled, the sound almost a growl in her chest though she appeared only in her mid-thirties, and idly chewed on a hairpin. "I'm not the one who drew those. That would be the work of my husband."

"Oh," Winry commented, interested. She looked closely at one sketch. "He's incredibly talented."

"That's right." Winry looked up at the blatant pride in Skyler's voice and was shocked to see the surely woman's expression soften. "He's quite something." Her dreamy expression dropped so quickly that the young woman wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. "Now let's see it."

With a nod, the blond pulled the long tube off of her shoulder and opened it with a pop before delicately pulling the thin drafting paper from its case to lay it out on the table. She took a deep breath. "Now, I know it looks–"

"What is  _ that _ ?" the smith cut her off and leaned over the table for a closer look. She looked intrigued and Winry could almost see sparks coming from her eyes as she turned her head this way and that to examine the schematic. Encouraged, Winry continued her pitch.

"This is a one-of-a-kind, once-in-a-life-time build. I want you to help me make me an Automaton."

"Automaton, huh?" Skyler rolled the odd word around for a moment then looked up with a fierce grin. Her eyes danced in a familiar waltz of ingenuity and excitement for something new that Winry had felt many a time within herself. "I dunno what you're up to, girly, but you've got yourself a deal."

Winry gaped. "What? Just like that?" That was unexpected. She’d at least thought she would have to defend her reasons for building such a thing, though she really had none she could outright say to a stranger.

Skyler chuckled. "Just like that. I've never seen anything quite like this. I like it."

A slow smile pulled at Winry's lips and she stuck out her hand. "All right then. It will be a pleasure working with you." The girl's small hand was engulfed by Skyler's, and though there was little difference in their hands' sizes, the older woman's seemed infinitely stronger. Winry couldn't help but feel a spark of admiration.

"Likewise. However, I think we might just need a little help."

* * *

"Alphonse!" Edward's heart jerked sharply in his chest as he watched some kid tear his precious younger brother away from him amidst the confusion. Alphonse's presence left him violently, like a splinter being yanked carelessly from his soul and Edward gasped at the sensation. Frantically, he tried to push through the crowd, getting violent when those surrounding him would not  _ move, the boy was getting away! _

"Woah, hey kid, calm–"

"Get outta my WAY! AL!" In a pique, Edward slammed his hands to the ground, the lightning of alchemy causing the stone beneath him to writhe wildly. A split second later he was propelled from the now shocked crowd and landed on his feet, stumbled once, and then took off down the street.

The thief, taken by surprise, looked back in fear and then picked up his pace, dodging through the people and trying to use them as obstacles for his pursuer. The kid clearly knew the alleyways of Rush Valley and Edward found himself hard-pressed to keep up. For a split second, he lost sight of the little wretch and Edward's heart  _ stopped. _

"Alphonse! AL!" He ran, eyes jerking back and forth along the street frantically, dodging confused people or outright shoving them out of the way when they wouldn't move. No! He couldn't lose him! Alphonse couldn't protect himself right now, dammit! "AL!"

"Oh my, what do we have here?"

Edward whipped around at the sound of a deep voice, strangely lilted, from behind. A large man held the thief off the ground with a huge hand, the shocked boy's feet barely touching the ground. The man was easily the size of Armstrong, his shoulders broad and muscled and only thinly covered by a tight purple shirt and black overalls. His face was wide, brow strong and pouting lips painted a cherry red. His eyes were as black as the hair that curled around his ears, manicured meticulously.

But Edward only had eyes for the center of his world, still clutched in the young thief's hand. Alphonse dangled by his broken chain, red soul fire facing outward and Edward couldn't tell if he’d been harmed or not. "Al!" He rushed forward and snatched his brother from the boy who didn’t dare protest. The man simply watched curiously, not letting up on his grip. 

Edward gazed down at Alphonse's vessel, no longer giving a damn whether these two weirdos saw him. First, he scanned the metal casing. If there was a single scratch so help him…! But it seemed that he was at least unharmed on the surface. "Al, can you hear me, are you okay?" 

" _ Y-yeah," _ Alphonse responded shakily. " _ I'm okay, brother." _

Edward let out a relieved sigh, completely ignoring the surprised hitch of breath beside him, and brought the amulet to his chest, Alphonse brushing against his consciousness once again. Slowly he felt himself relax, heart slowing.

"You some kinda freak or somthin'?" an obnoxious voice broke him out of his daze and Edward regarded the thief with a fierce glare. The kid flinched back and began struggling anew in his captor’s grip.

"Why you little–"

"Okaaay!" The man exclaimed loudly in his lilted voice, placing a firm palm on Edward's shoulder. Edward grunted under the weight and felt the massive paw tighten, holding him in place, even as one pinky lifted up daintily. "Nothing to see here, people, move along! Really, such violence is not called for!" He pulled a sweet looking grin and held the young thief higher off the ground. The boy froze as he was lifted like a rag doll. "Young man, you should be ashamed of yourself! If I ever see you again," his grin turned sharp and his voice deepened immeasurably, "you won't be getting this arm back next time." Then he let the boy go. With a shriek, the kid took off down the road, cursing as he dodged bustling people. The large man simply waved at his retreating back, smiling sweetly.

Edward gaped as the man's attention was brought back to him. He hunched his shoulders, preparing for a fight. "As for you, young thing, you absolutely  _ must _ tell me all about that fashionable pendant of yours! Come have some tea at my shop, I insist!" He pulled Edward against his hard side and threw an arm around the shocked blond's shoulders, pinning him in place.

"Urgh!" Edward gasped, suddenly quite unable to breathe as the strange fellow pulled him down the street, chattering nonstop.

A half-hour later, Edward sat in the middle of a well-organized automail shop, just as clean and tidy as the man himself–Garfiel, he thought he heard–seemed to be. Workbenches lined the back wall, covered in parts and automail limbs, while several dozen more hung on the walls above. Glass cases seemed to hold the completed pieces at the store's front. Everything was in its place, perfectly straight and aligned, and Edward wondered if Garfiel didn't have slight manic tendencies. As it was, he was chattering on about this and that and everything from the weather to what he would like to make for dinner, and Edward really,  _ really _ just wanted to talk to Alphonse, because dammit, he had just nearly gotten stolen!

Finally, Garfiel stopped his fluttering around and placed a cup of steaming tea in front of Edward, sitting down and daintily sipping his own. The boy looked down at the cup–covered in pink flowers of all things–skeptically. He wasn't much of a tea drinker but picked it up in any case, knowing Alphonse would disapprove if he was rude. He sipped it and grimaced at the taste, half tempted to spit it back out. "Ugh..."

"Now," Garfield said, gently placing his own cup on its saucer. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

"...It's Edward," Edward said guardedly.

"Is that so? And your, ah, companion," Garfiel said delicately, glancing down at the pendant Edward still refused to release.

Edward hesitated, frowning in suspicion, but Alphonse clearly didn't think the man who saved him was a threat.

" _ It's Alphonse sir,"  _ he said, and Edward grumbled in protest. " _ I'm his little brother. Thank you so much for saving me earlier." _

"Al!"

Garfield put a hand to his face, ignoring Edward and _ blushing, _ closing his eyes demurely. "Oh my, so polite! Don't even mention it, young man, it was nothing!" He waved a finger in Edward's face, reprimanding. "You really shouldn't carry something so precious openly in this town! We do have our share of pickpockets like the one you ran into earlier!"

"I'm not going to hide him," Edward muttered. "He's not just some object!"

"Now, you know that's not what I meant." Garfiel said primly and Edward deflated. "At the very least…Here," he got up and shuffled around, making a sound of delight when he found what he was looking for. He held it out to Edward with a bright smile. "This should do the trick! This won't break so easily as that flimsy chain."

Edward took the proffered chain slowly, examining it closely. It was thickly woven in some sort of black alloy he didn’t recognize. He narrowed his eyes at his impromptu host. "Why are you being so calm about this?"

" _ Brother," _ Alphonse reprimanded, but Edward didn't let up on his penetrating stare in the slightest.

"My dear," Garfield said with a disarming smile, "this is Rush Valley. Here of all places, one shouldn't be judged by their appearances. Half of this town is made of metal, after all."

Edward sat back, speechless. That was unexpected. He at least thought he would have to go into a long explanation of what Alphonse was. "Um. Well. Alright, then, thanks." He looked around, taking in the craftsmanship of the automail scattered around the shop. He didn't know much about automail but it looked sound. He turned back to Garfiel's guileless face. "Well, if you feel that way, I have a favor to ask."

"Mhm?" Garfield merely took another sip of his tea. Before Edward could continue, however, the door tinkled, announcing that someone had entered.

"Gaarfieeel!" A husky voice exclaimed, drawing the store's occupants’ attention. Edward gaped as the largest woman he’d ever seen pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Garfiel jumped up from his seat with an excited smile and rushed to the front of the shop where the woman met him halfway. "Honeycakes! You're home!" The woman opened her arms wide with a grin to catch the exuberant man when Garfiel stopped short. He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, you are  _ filthy. _ "

"Aww," the woman pouted with thin lips, though her eyes still smiled. "Don't be so cold, love!" She brought an automail hand up and tilted Garfiel's chin, face settling into a charming smirk. "You look beautiful as always, dear husband."

"Oh stop," Garfiel said with a blush, both adults completely ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Edward's face. "Go clean up, and then you  _ must _ meet our guests!"

"Just a minute, I have something to show you!"

As the couple chattered, Edwards's gaze was drawn to the door where he startled to see Winry, seemingly torn between complete shock and bemusement. She spotted Edward and her eyes lit up in surprise. She walked in and sat down beside him. "Fancy meeting you here," she said casually. "So tell me, how much trouble did you get in while I was away?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Win," Edward grumbled, scooting over on the bench so she could sit comfortably. "So, can you explain...that?" He gestured to the two in the middle of the shop deeply embroiled in conversation.

Winry snorted. "Well, Ed, when a man and a woman  _ really _ love each other–"

"Wha–No! I meant who's the woman?" Edward exclaimed, crossing his arms with a disconcerted scowl.

"Ah," Winry's expression turned smug. "That would be our blacksmith, Mrs. Skyler." Before Edward could do more than give her a skeptical look, Garfiel clapped his hands together sharply.

"Ah, I see! Well, it looks like you three will be staying with us for quite a while then!"

Both blonds turned to him in surprise at the sudden statement. "We're...staying here?" Edward asked, frowning dubiously at the atrociously pink curtains.

"Of course! After all, this project could take quite some time. Wouldn't want you to have to sleep in a nasty hotel." Garfiel wrinkled his nose as if such a thought was simply unthinkable and his wife let out an amused snort.

"You mean…" Winry said, smile growing wider by the second.

"That's right, girly," Skyler declared, throwing an arm around Garfield's shoulder, the man huffing tolerantly even as he attempted to brush the soot off her limb, "You've got yourself the best mechanic-blacksmith team in town!"

Edward and Winry exchanged glances, neither knowing quite what to make of this odd pair they had come across. At every turn, Rush Valley had sent them for a loop. It was unexpected, but…

"What do you think, Al? Ready to give this a shot?"

" _ Yeah!" _

Winry nudged Edward in the side. "See, Ed, Al? I told you I would find them."

"Yeah, yeah," Edward groused playfully. "But I am not carrying your suitcase again, you overpowered tomboy."

"What was that!"

"Now, now, everyone. It's time for dinner!" Garfiel lifted his wife's filthy arm off of his shoulder with a delicate sniff, causing the woman to snort. "We are going to need our strength after all!"

"Okay, Mr. Garfiel," Winry said cheerfully, standing up. She looked down at Edward expectantly. Edward huffed.

"Alright, alright, you did a good job."

" _ Yeah, thanks Winry," _ Alphonse said softly, much more heartfelt.

The young woman's smile turned gentle as she gazed at the two boys. "Anything for you two."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse is on his way to recovery :)
> 
> Thank you sincerely to the few of you who actually like this story. I adore hearing from you :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gives in.

In the silence, I laid still. At least, I thought I was lying down...I could have been standing, or even floating for all that I could tell. I couldn't remember how I got into this position. My mind was funny that way; forgetful. Or, at least it had been these last few...months. No, it couldn't have been that long. And yet...my hair had grown longer than I even wore it in my past life, hovering just above my tailbone whenever I actually bothered to brush it out with my fingers...most of the time I didn't...

A glimmer of black caught the corner of my eye. Sluggishly I turned my head, belatedly feeling the strange surface beneath my loose hair. A lump of black cloth lay parallel to me, its folds catching the ever perpetual light strangely and surreal as if it floated while I stood. Where did that come from? I lifted my hand to reach for it but lost the will to move halfway there, distracted by the way I saw the movement in fragments, vision slipping in and out of focus. It dropped down beside my face as I lost interest in the cloth. It gave me a headache to focus on something that may or may not be real...

I resumed my previous position, staring up into the light, the mysterious floor cushioning me comfortably as my mind wandered back to its vague meanderings.

One, two, three, four…

I couldn’t be sure when the self-appointed task began or how many times I‘d lost count, but like a song stuck in the back of my mind or a clock ticking quietly in the background, it continued. If I stopped, if I let the silence encroach,  _ they _ would consume me again...and I didn't know how many more times I could come out of that...

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two….

Images flashed against the white, strange flashes of memory I could barely comprehend, like watercolor dripping onto a white canvas in vivid pigments only to sink back into nothingness, the ground soaking up the rain in a desert. Sometimes the images were soothing, comforting memories of times when I’d been happy, images that made me simultaneously ache with longing and bathe in quiet nostalgia. Sometimes they were horrific; flashes of red and pain and fear, which I cringed from. And yet I welcomed any distraction from the white, even if it was painful...

Nine-hundred-three, nine-hundred-four….

How long? That was the question wasn't it, the only one I really had anymore. How long had I been here in this empty place, since I've felt the sun against my skin, since I felt anything at all? How long since I've seen a friendly face or welcomed another's touch…

How long has it been since I lost my desire to move or even heard the sound of my own voice?

How long...

How long...

How long have I been here?

Slowly, I opened my mouth and took in a silent breath, throat tightening to make a noise, any noise. But I merely exhaled, mind already wandering to something else.

Seven, eight, nine…Wait, I've started over again…

Something moved in the nothing but at first, I couldn’t bring myself to react to it, struggling valiantly to remember what number I was on. Somewhere in the thousands, I think…

"Empathy…."

I twitched at the noise but otherwise didn't move. No, I couldn't lose concentration or I'd be trapped in my dark memories again. My body relaxed slightly as the splashes of color against the white remained cool and gentle. I didn't want to recall the red…

"Empathy…" A feathery sensation of warmth brushed against my arm, finally pulling me from the confines of my own mind. My eyes widened from their half-mast glaze and rolled to the side, where a large swath of black blocked my vision. Or rather, filled it.

Irises struggling to focus for a moment, I took in the form of the only being I’d had any contact with for what felt like an eternity. Sparks of emotion prickled through my body like nerves coming back to life and I shuddered at the sensation, muted as they were.

Lust waited patiently as I took stock of myself, small smile indulgent and hand gentling up and down my bare arm. I didn't brush her off, didn't flinch away. I was long past the point of caring enough to resist her. She was the only link to reality I had and even if her touch repulsed me, it paled in comparison to being able to feel...real.

For several moments, we existed in silence, Lust watching carefully until I seemed to come back into full awareness. Finally, she spoke. "Empathy...my pretty, pretty doll…" Her voice was smooth as silk, washing over me like a caress after so long in the silence. "What have you done to your clothes?" Rouge eyes raked over my reclined frame, brows furrowed in equal amounts of confusion and amusement.

I stared blankly, not really comprehending what she meant, before levering myself up onto my elbows– movement feeling strange to me after so long lying still–and took myself in. I blinked. My chest–tanned even though I had no contact with the sun for so long–was bare. I rested on hand on my abdomen in confusion before realizing that the black pants slung low on my hips had been shredded in deliberate tears all the way down my left thigh and calf. I was missing a shoe.

"Um…" my rough voice grated after the long span of disuse. I cleared my throat, shocked at the way I sounded. "I had to keep count." My gaze flitted back to her own. She merely smiled and nodded as though made perfect sense. Her fingers grew bolder, wrapping around my arm to squeeze gently before rubbing along my forearm, reigniting numbed nerves. My eyes fluttered shut, just feeling. I was perpetually cold these days and the warmth of another felt heavenly, her soft palm the most luxurious of silks over my sensitized skin.

Lust always enjoyed touching me in some way during her infrequent visits, and though I at first resisted I soon came to realize that she was the only anchor I had in this empty world; to deny her touch was to deny my own existence. In the back corner of my broken mind, I realized what she was doing, that this conditioning was just another way to control me.

At some point along the way, I forgot to care.

Tilting her head coyly, she broke the silence. "Have you thought about what I said?"

My eyelids flickered, but never really opened. I nodded my head as I always did when she asked that question.

I'm not sure how many times now she has visited me. Fifty? One hundred? After the time she offered me my humanity back her stays became fleeting, no doubt in response to my...violent reaction. Where did she get off offering me that, after all? It was impossible. I had seen what happened to my body on the other side. So she said she could make me human again, so what? What would be the point of that in this world that I was now forever trapped in? In a male body, I could never have the family I always dreamed of or become the wife of the man I loved as I had always assumed I would. I would be human and alone. Forever.

But even still, the offer had torn at my heart with unwarranted hope. And that...that hurt more than anything else ever had when I had to destroy that hope with my own hand. I would never trust in that promise. So I attacked and was left in the white alone with nothing but my own treacherous thoughts for company.

In the beginning, I tried to ignore her. A foolish thing to do, I now realized, as that got me absolutely nowhere other than to feel the crushing loneliness when she abandoned me again and again. Then I tried to scream at her, threaten her. Equally fruitless. Then I begged, though at this point I don't even remember half of what I offered. Each and every time, she would merely smile, offer a small touch, and then disappear. 

The silence and lack of sensation slowly crushed me. I began to forget, the days blending into weeks blending into months of dead, dead silence...What mattered to me here? So much could have happened to me during this time but the only thing I could feel was Lust’s touch, real or fantasy or nightmare, I could no longer tell the difference. I blocked out the worst of it and probably imagined the best. 

I would probably never know if I ever did manage to get out of here...

The thought of rescue never even occurred to me. How could it, when I didn't even know where I was? No one would find me...and I wasn't even sure they would want to anymore…

_ That isn't true, _ a voice rebutted in my mind, the words struggling through the molasses of my thoughts.  _ I have family here. They wouldn't abandon me. _

But well, that was so hard to believe in the continued silence. There was no rescue coming for me. I was on my own. Besides, they would want Alex back and I couldn’t find a trace of him. This weak creature that I was now, sick with insanity and grief...I really could use Alex's strength, his confidence, but those qualities I used to be so proud of were nowhere to be seen.

After so many times of playing cat and mouse, I realized that it couldn't continue forever. Lust's patience seemed endless and I was wearing down like a weather-beaten stone on a stormy coast. I didn't know how much of me would be left if I continued to do this. So the next time she visited I just...sat. I didn't move away when she brushed my cheek with delicate fingers, only looked straight at her and waited. Hatred and my own pride warred within me, but at that point I was just so  _ tired. _

Her smile had been radiant. She pulled me close into an embrace, resting my head against the hollow of her throat and I...let her. It was only then she began to speak. Finally, after so long of frustratingly silent smiles and knowing looks, she spoke.

She wove for me a story, broken into pieces of short narrative that she interspersed between visits, never staying longer than the next chapter before disappearing into the white once again to leave me cold and alone, her heat lingering on my skin. I would then slip back into numbness, trying to avoid the turmoil of my own mind until she returned. I didn't know the purpose of her words, just that I had to listen or she would never let me out of this prison. At least...that was what I hoped. The other possibility–that I would remain here forever–was too horrifying to contemplate.

The homunculus, voice smooth and alluring, wove the tale of a woman, bronzed as the desert sands where she once lived. It was the story of her and her lover, their devotion as bright as the eternally unobscured sun, the tragic end of their happiness by an incurable disease and the supposed finality of death.

But death was not the end of the story. The man, bereft and alone, did not accept her passing. He researched and toiled and broke a taboo, sacrificing everything he knew in a vain attempt to get her back. But what he created...it wasn't her. As he sat in a pool of blood and ruin, he laughed, cried, and broke in the face of what he’d done. He tried to get rid of it, buried it in the sand, heedless of its dying cries of agony...

That was where she left off the last time before she disappeared.

Every time she left she asked that I consider her words, though I'm never quite sure what words she meant; the story that seemed to be her own, or her desire for me to join her? Probably both. She never asked anything else or elaborated, never even asked me whether I was ready to join her or not. I had long given up on asking questions because she never answered.

"I have…" I mumbled when she merely smiled. I had nothing to do  _ but _ think about what she said. I would never change my mind about her promise, though...I just didn't believe it. But it didn't seem like she needed my consent anymore. I was in her power and she knew it. I waited for her to pull me close and continue her story as always, but felt a spike of panic when she did just the opposite.

She stood to her full height and stared down at me, arms crossed delicately about her waist. I stared in shock, still reclined on my elbow. She searched my face as I dare not move lest she leave me alone again, eyes boring into mine. She took a step back.

Something in me broke. "Don't," I rasped, voice cracking. My eyes filled with tears as shame wrenched at me, but I couldn't help but reach out a shaking hand. This...this was different than my begging before, I could taste it like a sickness on the back of my tongue. I had pleaded, demanded she let me loose before but now the only thing I could think about was that I was going to be alone again and  _ I couldn't be alone again _ .

Lust's face remained neutral as she observed me. I lowered my eyes but didn't retract my hand. "Don't what, Empathy?" she said, leading.

I flinched at her tone, shoulders hunching. I hated this, hated  _ myself _ , but the white surrounding us was crushing me and if she left this time...I didn't know what would happen, but I felt the madness coming on like a fatal disease. If I didn't leave here soon–

I shied from my own thoughts, opened my mouth slowly, then closed it when my throat merely tightened. My eyes jerked up to hers and she lifted a thin brow, waiting. "Don't leave me here alone…" I said lowly.

Her painted lips twitched. "You want me to stay?"

"I–" I choked. "I want you to stay here…"

"With you?"

"Yes…with me…"

Rouge eyes narrowed coldly and I felt my breath hitch. But then the ice melted from fair features and Lust fell gracefully to her knees, wrapping her long fingers around my extended hand. A beatific smile pulled at her lips.

My shoulders tightened for a split second at the unexpected gesture before a full-body shudder wracked my frame. Tremulously, I smiled back. With a sure tug, she coaxed me to lay down, my head resting on her lap and her fingers sinking into my disheveled hair to comb lightly. I shivered, the rasp of her fingernails almost too much after so much deprivation but unable to pull away. 

For several minutes we sat quietly as she arranged my hair into some semblance of order, her sharp nails raising gooseflesh over my entire body. This felt familiar, though I could swear I had never let her do this...hadn’t I? Uncomfortable under her gaze and disturbed by my own doubts, I broke our stalemate. "W-will you tell me what happened to the woman?"

Lust tilted her head coyly, a black strand of hair falling over her pale shoulder. "You want to hear more?"

Well...no, not really. It didn't matter what she talked about, so long as she didn’t abandon me again. "Yes…" She seemed to read my answer in my bearing, though, because she merely shook her head.

"I would love to stay, pet, but I have a little problem that might be a tad difficult to handle on my own. I don't know how long I'll be gone." She placed a delicate finger to her lips in thought, heedless of the sudden panic that spread over my features. "The others have been so busy lately, I guess I'll just have to wait for them to return…" She gave me a meaningful look, but I couldn't understand anything past my sudden horror. Didn't know how long she would be gone? No–I can't. I would lose myself. I can't do this I  _ can't _ –

My breath came in short gasps and something in my chest  _ squeezed,  _ blocking my airways and summoning spots in my vision. I scrambled to my knees, prepared to grab her if she so much as twitched away, even knowing it was absolutely no use. 

Then what she implied sank in and I froze completely. 

"I–I can help you."

Her voice lifted in faux incredulity. "You? But dear...you rejected my offer. You didn't want to be one of us."

"I do," I nearly shouted and startled myself with the strength of that response. "I do," I said softer, stunned at my own words. Was I really so desperate? Slowly, my gaze drifted around the white void surrounding us before settling on the black shirt crumpled beside me. The black shirt  _ I didn't remember removing _ . Images fluttered in and out of my peripherals and I cringed at the insanity that seemed to hover in the back of my mind, waiting to consume me once I was alone again. I would do anything to avoid that fate.

Even if it meant giving in to this awful creature's demands.

"Is that so?" Lust simpered, lifting a hand to stroke my cheek softly. I didn't move. "Do you know what that means?"

"I–yes," I answered softly, though I didn't really. I had no idea what it meant, only that to deny her anything might make her change her mind.

Her eyes narrowed but her smile didn't waver. "No, you don't, but you will learn with time." Lust’s fingers wandered along my jaw before her nails dug into the soft underside. I didn't dare flinch as her mien became predatory. "You cannot run from me, my love. I will find you and I will send you back here," she whispered sweetly.

I believed her. Slowly, I nodded my consent, feeling the soft skin on my neck cut against her cruel fingers. Blood slowly trickled down my neck before disappearing in a flash of red sparks. I didn't feel it. I was too numb.

Her grip eased back into a gentle caress, rubbing the spot she’d cut. She lifted my chin and I complied, slowly closing my eyes and exposing my neck to her, a primitive, animalistic show of submission. Her body heat washed over mine and I shivered as her hot breath washed over my pulse, which hammered in my veins as I waited for her to make her move...whatever that may be. At that moment, I felt like a beaten wolf; exposing my belly to the alpha, waiting to be accepted into the pack...or to feel teeth rip into me in rejection.

Interminable moments passed between us as I waited and finally I felt the slightest flutter of lips against my pulse. My breath hitched and I tensed but no pain came. Instead, she simply uttered, "It's time to wake up…" before pulling back.

I stayed still, jaw clenched until my teeth ground and felt they were going to crack. I felt her body heat leave me. My eyes snapped open and I let out a shuddering gasp, looking back and forth rapidly to try and locate my new master, but she was nowhere to be found. A trembling hand found its way up to my neck and I hunched over myself, eyes clenched shut and breaths stalling in my chest. I rubbed my fingers over my skin, trying to rid myself of the memory of her touch and the loathing it brought. It took a moment, but I was finally able to calm down. My body fell limp when I finally opened my eyes again, looking around in confusion. Had she...lied? She just left–

The world around me shifted. Hair rose on my arms and scalp and I flinched as a familiar pressure moved the stale air in a current around me. I jumped to my feet, startled at the change, but could see nothing.

I blinked in confusion as...something began to obscure my vision. It looked like...dust? I lifted my hand to swipe at it, but it only made the powder thicker.

And then I realized that it was coming from me.

With dawning horror, I brought my trembling hand to my face...or rather, what was left of it. It disintegrated before my very eyes, my physical form seeming to wither into dust to drift into the air above. I stared numbly as first my fingers, then my entire hand disappeared into the empty sky.

A startled laugh escaped me, hysterical and utterly mad to my own evaporating ears and I leaned back as I felt my legs disappear from underneath me. I began to fall and never stopped falling as my white prison faded to black.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next time I was aware...I couldn't breathe.

Pressure compressed my lungs and shackled my limbs, dragging me in and out of consciousness in tides of black. I don't know how many times I woke before falling back into the darkness, but finally, my eyes fluttered open long enough for me to catch a glimpse of my surroundings.

I cringed badly as a bright white light filtered from above, burning my eyes and terrifying me that I was still in that awful prison, but a few seconds later, my strained eyes adjusted. I blinked rapidly, vision muddled. I was in some kind of dark chamber, the ceiling several stories above and lit by a single light source. Though the light was blinding the room still seemed to be thrown in deep shadows, flickering like black flames in the edges of my sight. My head turned slowly on a leaden neck, gaze wandering uncomprehendingly down the walls, dense with massive pipes and wires so thick that the underlying structure could not be seen. They trailed and wove all the way down to the floor like thick, writhing vines and converged in a disorganized mass in the middle of this strange room.

In the center of it all reclined a white-clad man, his robes reflecting the light above as if he were his own light source. Long blond hair fluttered around a wizened face as he took notice of me, fair features neutral.

The room began to dim as I was pulled from the waking world, but not before I saw him grin, white teeth gleaming in the darkness. The last thought I could manage was that he looked familiar, but before I could follow that train of thought it flitted away from my grasp…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today. It was a good stopping point though, so I guess I can't complain too much. 
> 
> That was a heavy one, huh. It's interesting to write from the perspective of someone coming unhinged. As you could probably tell, Alex's perspective is really unreliable. I'll leave it up to y'all's imagination to fill in the blanks of what happened to him during his time in captivity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex adjusts to reality and encounters an old enemy.

Deep shadows shimmered on the edge of my vision, but my eyes focused through them as easily as if it were broad daylight. The sight of them brought a smile to my chapped lips and I licked them absently as pure contentment warmed my frozen core, melting it just a little bit.

So often it has been reiterated by both the great and weak-minded that darkness was something to be feared; the chasm in people's hearts, the pitch where nightmares crawl and predators stalk. But to me, the shadows I cast upon the ground and the black that hides details from my view were _beautiful. _ The darkness so many had feared since the advent of man was a cool balm on my shattered mind, holding back the vivid imagery that had plagued me so, wrapping around me like a soothing blanket of the softest silk. Because every time I opened my eyes, every time I would flash back to the perpetual blinding light of _that _place, the simple reassurance of contrast made my heart _soar. _

I took a deep breath...and marveled.

Everything was so _real. _ I ran my hand over the damp stones beside me, reveling in the rough texture, the slide of condensation, the coolness. Even when something sharp pricked my finger, I could only smile at the flicker of pain. I was _moving_. I took steps and the world passed me by, the friction beneath my shoes propelling me forward. Time passed here and there was so much sound; the drips from the water draining above us, a clatter of a rock when something moved and even my breath which came back to me in an eerie echo. And the smells...well, I could have lived without them considering where exactly I was, but I would take what I could get.

Even the soft click of heels behind me couldn't dampen my lightened heart, because I was free. I wanted to touch everything, revel in the changing scenery as I moved forward, and so I did, and I _ felt. _

* * *

When I truly woke from the nightmare, at first I couldn't breathe, and for several seconds disorientation and panic gripped me. My body felt heavy as I adjusted to the gravity of the real world once again, its pressure so very different from what I had become accustomed to. It took several labored breaths before my heart rate settled and I was able to open my eyes in wonder and disbelief, almost afraid of doing so in the terrible case that this–my liberation–was all in my overactive imagination. But as the physical sights and sensations of the real world washed over me I was relieved to acknowledge its truth.

I was not in the same place I first woke, that image burned into my mind like a particularly vivid dream. Perhaps it had been. It wouldn’t have been the first time I hallucinated during my unorthodox incarceration. But that man seemed so real, so familiar to me somehow, though I struggled to place it. I shook off the thought, resolving that my immediate situation was much more important.

Drab wallpaper and a scratchy bedspread led me to believe that I was in some kind of cheap hotel, but I didn't care, couldn't focus on that because I was much too busy being shocked by all of the physical sensations I experienced for the first time in an age. I could smell must and cleaning solution, see the dull blue of an old blanket, feel its rough surface. Moving air brushed over my bare skin…

I stood up and the world shifted around me, the shift in perspective dazzling me as if I’d been blind my whole life and was seeing everything for the first time. I took a trembling step and moved _forward. _

I couldn't possibly describe the joy I felt at that moment, joy I would feel for a long, long time at the barest acts that had been denied me for so long. Never again would I take the simple act of standing and moving forward for granted because now I knew what it was like to lose it.

With desperation that consumed every molecule of my being, I never wanted to lose it again.

An ice-cold prickling at the back of my neck alerted me that I was not as alone as I appeared, and with dread, I recognized the frigid presence. I turned around slowly towards the window to see the very figure I could blame for all of my misfortune sitting on the sill, blocking the sunlight from entering. "Welcome back," she said, and for a brief moment, I could only shiver, our last encounter still fresh in my mind.

"How long," I whispered lowly, finding my voice. It was a question that had been plaguing me for so long, and no matter what, no matter the consequences, I had to know.

Lust merely smiled and closed her eyes. "Nine days."

Nine...days? But it had felt like...I looked down at myself, the worn clothes still hanging limply off of my body, the ragged hair that fell in tangles to my waist. No, it hadn't just felt like it, it had been...I don’t know how long. Months. _ Years. _ Fury boiled in me, hot and sudden. Why was she _lying _to me? "Don't fuck with me," I growled, long past my limits of patience.

Her grin only widened with a small chuckle, setting my teeth on edge. "Time passes differently in the at the foot of the Gate," she said, brushing aside my anger with a warning flash of her eyes. "You will find that much less time has passed for me than it has for you." 

“...” I gaped.

_ That _was why she had been so incredibly patient, why she could afford to spend so much time on this game. Because she hadn't had to contribute much time at all.

She leaned forward and I couldn't stop myself from cringing. "I can send you back there if you would rather not help me with my little project. I would be gone for several days after all. Who knows how long that would be for you…"

Before I could process the blatant _unfairness _of that properly, she gestured towards the door to the bathroom with a magnanimous motion. "Clean yourself up. I can't have you walking around like that, now can I?" With one last chuckle, she stood gracefully and walked to the door, stepping out into the hotel hallway without a backward glance. The door closed with a soft click.

I only stared, some unseen clock ticking in the silence. She just...left me. In a daze, I wandered over to the window and looked out. An unremarkable alley greeted me, a worn building face and a dirty street below. But that wasn't what had held my attention. It was the sky, blue and crystal clear and free. I could do it. I could just open the window and jump out, into that vast sky. And I almost did, but for the sinister whisper in my mind…

_ I will find you. _

I shivered and stepped back. No. I couldn’t escape. She would never cease looking for me, no matter how many innocents got in the way. I turned around, away from the sun, and headed for the bathroom.

Heat from the shower washed over me in rippling waves of pure pleasure and I was able to regain some of my earlier euphoria. I let the familiarity of the simple act of bathing wash away the numbness of my deprived nerves, and as I stood under the spray I felt just a little bit of my will return. Lust's threat hovered over my shoulders like a miasma, but as long as I drowned in the signals of my body–so over-sensitive after so long in emptiness–I could ignore it.

Finally, the water turned cold and even that I basked in, absorbing the sensations like a coveted drug. But even with my heart light as a feather, I couldn’t completely dispel the urging in my blood warning me that to delay would bring disaster. Briefly, a familiar spark of defiance pricked somewhere behind my collar bone but I brushed it aside with a flick of thought. None of that, unless I would risk...I shuddered, forcing myself not to think about it. With a heaving sigh, I stepped out onto the frigid floor, the tiles slick with condensation, and found myself face to face with my reflection.

For a full minute, I stared. Just looked, eyes frozen on my bare body as if it was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen. I took a step closer, noting that the expression on my face was pulled in confusion, disbelief even. Not because I looked different, no...I was shocked because I looked the same.

A startled laugh escaped my slack jaw, more a disbelieving huff of air, but, well, I guess I had expected...something. I dunno, after everything I went through, there should be some difference in my body, my face, my complexion, _ anywhere, _ but...there just wasn't. My red-violet eyes traced over my chest and torso, just as defined and tanned as if I had spent every waking moment training in the sunlight without a shirt. But no, even more so, I was in _better _shape than I had ever been, my shoulders just a little broader. A frown pulled at the corner of my mouth, drawing my attention back to my face.

I frowned deeper, examining more closely. No...there _ was _a difference. I looked...older. My jaw was more defined, that of a young man rather than the boy that had stormed Lab Five. I didn't even really look like Alphonse anymore...more like Edward really, but even older than him. That...should not be possible. I shook my head slowly, confused. I hadn't been in there that long had I? I looked down, tearing my eyes away from my reflection and resting my hand over my chest lightly. The ever-present hum of the philosopher's stone made itself known to me, its clamoring souls becoming increasingly more cacophonous as I paid attention to them. I pushed them down without effort, long since used to controlling them by now, and worried my lip in thought. Eventually, though, I only heaved a resigned sigh and smiled wryly, if not a little bit bitter. I had been going through so many changes in the last few years that what did it even matter if it looked like I got a few years older in an impossibly short while? Compared to everything else, this was the least of my worries. In fact, it didn't even register as such. I hadn't been a child in a long, long time, after all, so looking a bit older was fine by me.

I turned sharply from the mirror, intent on leaving as quickly as possible, but a glimmer of red caught my eye. I paused, carefully brushing my too-long hair out of the way before my breath caught in my throat. Slowly, I lifted my hand to the side of my neck, hoping beyond hope that my fingers could disprove what my reflection was telling me. But as I grazed my fingers over unfamiliar ridges I could only close my eyes and turn away from the damning image. There, on the side of my neck was an ouroboros tattoo, bright as blood against my skin.

Like a brand.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, banishing the thought before it could burden me further. I already knew what I was, but seeing the visual proof put a bad taste in my mouth. I grasped for the optimism I’d been feeling earlier and stepped out of the bathroom, running fingers through my stubbornly tangled hair.

A shiver tingled up my spine and I jumped, a slight thrill of fear pulsing in me before my eyes snapped open and I realized I was still alone. But there was a pile of fabric on the bed that hadn't been there before and I cringed at myself for walking out of the bathroom completely uncovered. Lust had gone, yes, but that didn't mean she wouldn't come back, in fact already had. Being bare in front of her would be...bad. Not that she had ever forced anything of the sort...that I could remember...I shuddered, quickly moving to the bed to find what had been left for me, eager to be covered, as if a scrap of cloth could protect me. Still, it would make me feel better, at least.

My lips pulled back in resigned distaste as I lifted the soft pieces of fabric. Black. Of course. I quickly pulled on the loose pants, relieved to be somewhat decent again, before moving onto the shirt. As I lifted it, a glimmer of silver scintillated in the light and hit the bed before bouncing off and clinking against the floor. I huffed, bending over clumsily to pick it up with a quick swipe of my hand. I carelessly began to throw it back onto the bed, thinking it a lot more important to clothe myself before worrying about whatever it was, but a spark of familiarity stayed my hand. Slowly, I uncurled my fingers one by one, revealing the small object to my widening gaze.

An earring, no bigger than my thumb, glinted in the palm of my hand. An impossibly detailed snake wove around a crowned cross, draping across it like an arm around the shoulders of an old friend. Nestled in the center of that cross was the deepest blue stone I had ever seen, its color so pure that it could only have been made by magic. Wings spread out from the piece, reaching wide as if it meant to fly from my hand into the brilliant sunlight its polished silver reflected so well.

My eyes blurred and I blinked rapidly, realizing only a second later that I was crying. It was the Flamel, the symbol tattooed over Izumi Curtis' heart, that Alphonse had engraved on his armor and that Edward wore on the back of his clothes like a crest. In its reflection, I saw Edward's smiling face and Alphonse's warm soul on the day that they presented this earring to me, so happy because–The earring that Mustang complemented in jest but I could only feel pride because–

_ Because you're our brother. _

It was the symbol of my family, given to the Elrics when Izumi accepted them as her students and then given to me when Edward and Alphonse accepted me as a brother. Why...why did Lust give this to me?

_ Because she wanted to hurt you with the memory of what you lost. _

Slowly, a smile tugged at my lips, leaden and unused to the gesture as they were. It hurt. Oh, it hurt. I may not be able to see them or even want to after everything that happened, but as the memories washed over me I could only smile.

Lust miscalculated. She thought that it would break me further to see a symbol of my second life, but it only served to remind me who I was. Reverently, I brought the earring to my ear and slipped it in, only stymied for a second when I had to re-pierce my healed skin. As its familiar weight settled and brushed the side of my neck I let my smile drop into neutrality, even as a little piece of my soul returned with a satisfying click.

I was still afraid of being trapped again and until I could find a way to either escape or destroy Lust completely, I was never going to regain my freedom. Until then, I would be forced to play her game.

I looked up with dull eyes when the door opened. Lust stepped through and seemed so pleased with herself at the tear stains still lingering on my face, thinking the round won.

Until then…

* * *

We traveled through the sewers, the putrid smell of ammonia and unspeakable filth burning my nose and the tunnels snaking endlessly. I didn’t know where we were going or why, but it hardly mattered to me at the moment, lost as I was in the sensations of my own body. I wondered vaguely if I would ever get over the simple joy of feeling texture beneath my skin, even if it was the distasteful slime of who knows what. I tugged lightly at the cloth around my neck with my other hand, wondering if the piece of fabric was a simple fashion preference or if it was designed to feel like an animal collar around my neck. I couldn't bring myself to care though, as it covered my ouroboros tattoo up nicely. Small blessings.

I barely noticed it at first, so used to the crawl of disturbed souls brushing against mine that I almost didn't realize that what I was feeling came from outside of myself. I paused in confusion, hand sliding to a stop against the wall, and squinted into the darkness of the tunnel beyond. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lust come to a stop beside me, uncomfortably close, but I ignored her as the sensation grew stronger.

A mass of immeasurable aggression and anger pulsed from the darkness like some kind of insidious pressure. I blinked and took a step back, feeling the emotions boil like a particularly dangerous chemical. That was...new. I had never felt the emotions of another without direct contact before...The faint sound of dragging footsteps echoed off the walls, alerting me to the presence of someone approaching. The intensity of it was staggering and I wouldn't have been able to imagine all that coming from one being if I wasn't feeling it for myself.

I shifted uneasily, not having even the slightest desire to face whatever tortured soul was capable of such malice, but a strong hand on my shoulder held me in place. I glanced at Lust, my eyes nearly level with hers now with my new height, but her smug attention was locked on the tunnel in front of us. Another strong pulse of anger caused me to cringe.

A figure slowly revealed itself from the darkness. Filthy clothes wrapped over a strong frame, tattered and revealing hard and tanned skin. The man lifted his chin when he sensed our presence and my jaw dropped. Crimson eyes glared from the darkness, deeper even than my own, a true red. But that was hardly the most shocking thing at the moment. A thick, roped scar in the shape of an 'X' crossed between his eyes, startlingly white against brown skin.

"Scar…" I whispered, adrenaline rearing up in my limbs. His blood-red eyes locked onto mine and I tensed, feeling the miasma of his volatile emotions rack up a notch along with my own as a flood of highly unpleasant memories assailed me.

"Fullmetal," he growled. The name hung heavily in the air between us as I was struck speechless, surprised at having been mistaken for Edward, but he corrected himself a second later. "No...but that's impossible. I killed the abomination he created."

"You certainly gave it your best shot," I said with an ironic quirk of my lips, voice shaking through the weak attempt at humor. My hands inched to the small of my back and grasped convulsively, acutely missing the weight of my weapons.

"Scar…" Lust cut in, nearly a purr. Scar's splintering gaze released me and I let out an involuntary sigh of relief. His eyes narrowed as he took in the new threat. "We’ve been searching for you."

I scoffed in disbelief before I could stop myself. "This is what you were going to do? Find Scar? Are you nuts?"

The words went completely ignored as her gaze never wavered. Scar's brows furrowed. "I know you…"

Lust frowned, momentarily thrown, before reinserting her smile. "You have become a problem, my dear," she simpered, folding her arms delicately across her waist. "You see, I can't help but think you’re plotting to lay your hands on the Elric boys again. And I can't have that…"

"What–" I gasped, but sharp fingers digging into my shoulder silenced me. I stared at her in horror. What did she want with Ed and Al? I thought–I thought she wouldn't bother with them after she had me.

"You look like her, but that can't be true…" Scar muttered to himself, and I blinked dizzily. We were all talking around each other. Tension built in the air and I whipped my gaze between the two spasmodically. Scar took a step forward, tensing his shoulders, and I started as Lust abruptly released me. Stumbling back, I didn’t dare tear my eyes off the predator in front of me while my instincts screamed at me to keep track of the one at my back.

"Empathy...Kill him."

Eyes widening, I wasn't able to utter even a startled 'Huh?' before Scar lurched forward with an animalistic shout, arm bulging into a claw aimed at for my head.

Crimson alchemy consumed my vision.

* * *

An explosion rent the air, shattering the silent night of Central City in a violent spray of concrete and stone. Buildings shook and the ground trembled as the street was torn apart by an immeasurable force, bringing down the surrounding buildings and shattering the pavement a hundred yards in each direction. Dust flung into the air as the ruined infrastructure tumbled into the dark waters of the river.

The night settled into a ringing silence. Then the screams began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. The next one will be much longer, I just couldn't chop these scenes up uniformly :P. 
> 
> I appreciate every single one of you following this story! Follow me @Lynxrider on twitter for updates and random junk ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy brushes the edges of the truth, frustratingly out of his reach. Alex makes a chilling decision.

Roy Mustang strode along the halls of Central, his pace leisurely in the early morning hours. His face remained sure and impassive to the perusing eye of those coming into work, but his mind drifted a million miles away. Stray threads of thought flittered in and out of awareness as he coped with waking up after another restless night, from organizing his day to how the sunrise looked a little too pretty for his mood this morning. Still, despite his ongoing exhaustion and the unsettling dreams he continued to endure each night, his stride and countenance didn’t betray his state. Such was the Game.

It was with some relief that the door to his office complex closed quietly behind him, shoulders relaxing infinitesimally as familiar and trusted faces surrounded him. Quiet grumbles of all variations of the morning greeting filtered through the room, his crew looking just as haggard and tired as he felt having been working as ceaselessly as he the past two weeks.

"Sir," Riza greeted, and Roy couldn't help but notice how frustratingly fresh she looked, blonde hair pinned as impeccably as ever. But he knew his friend and the soft shadows under her eyes belied her weariness, if not as apparent as her male counterparts on the other side of the room. Roy blinked slowly, eyelids stubbornly sticking together despite the cold shower he’d taken that morning in an attempt to jolt himself awake. Wordlessly, Hawkeye held out a cup of steaming liquid and Roy took it with a sigh, resigned to another cup of caffeinated sludge. He smiled vaguely in thanks before wandering through the piles of paperwork littering his subordinates' desks and entering his inner sanctum.

For a moment, he just stood by the door, staring down into his coffee as he swirled it. Ugh, military-grade. One should never assume that meant anything of quality unless it came to weapons. For everything else, it meant 'cheap as hell'. Huh, actually it looked extra frothy today…Cautiously, he took a sip and a slow smile widened on his face at the surprisingly rich flavor. That woman. He was going to have to give her a pay raise one of these days for always knowing just what he needed…

A low rumbling from the vicinity of his feet forced Roy to peel his eyes open once again, moving the coffee out of his vision to stare down. Wide golden eyes stared back, too big for such a small face as Jäger plopped himself down in front of him, blocking his path. The chimera’s long tail swished back and forth expectantly. Roy narrowed his eyes at the creature in suspicion, trying to figure out what it wanted. He glanced at the supply closet in the corner of the room, next to which sat a food bowl. Full. Still, Jäger stared. Roy glanced down at his coffee, wondering if the creature had suddenly taken an interest in the stuff.

"What?" Roy growled, too tired to deal with the little thing's quirks just then. "You trying to be cute with me?" His brows drew together. The chimera looked better today, his flank brighter green and scales clearer than–Roy groaned, fingers pinching his nose in a silent bid for sanity. "Alright, where is it, you little bastard?" He grimaced, wondering if he could get one of his people to clean up the mess he just knew he was going to find somewhere inconvenient. Sure enough, there was a gross, flaky _ something _ poking out from under one of his couches and he averted his eyes to glare down at the unrepentant animal still purring at his feet. It even had the gall to start rubbing up against his leg, movements smooth and fluid since its restricting skin had been shed. Roy rolled his eyes and sidestepped it, only to groan once again when he caught sight of the pile of paperwork on his desk. He took another sip of coffee, wondering vaguely if he should clean his windows before getting into that mess. They were getting a bit dingy after all…

Before that little segue gained any momentum, a commotion outside his office perked his ears and cause Jäger to bolt for cover under his desk. Rolling his eyes again at the silly animal, Roy leaned back against his desk casually, crossing one arm over his stomach to lazily support the one holding his coffee, trusting his subordinates to either take care of the problem or let whoever was speaking so urgently into his office.

It wasn't a moment later that a knocking echoed through the room and his door clicked open without his acknowledgment. A stiff faced Riza entered with a young soldier who looked like she had a colony of fire ants in her shoes, nearly vibrating with energy. Snapping off a quick salute, the soldier didn't even bother to wait for his answer before launching into her message.

Any reprimand that Riza might have given her died on her lips as what the soldier said registered. "Sir, there's been an explosion on the Marou River. Your presence is requested immediately!"

"What?" Roy barked before she even finished speaking. "Explain."

"I don't know much, sir, only that you’ve been summoned to investigate." With her message delivered, the young woman snapped off a salute before another question could be asked, looking harried as she walked out the door.

Roy pinched his lips together as he exchanged a glance with Riza. A simple explosion wouldn't have been any concern to him at all. It was a job for the city police to handle. Or it would be if not for evidence found on the scene that corresponded with recent military investigations. And there was only one case that Roy was officially pursuing at this time that would demand he be informed: Scar had been involved.

Weariness forgotten, Roy pushed to his feet, coattails snapping as he strode towards the door, Riza opening it wide for him.

He paused his sudden march and grimaced as Jäger bolted from under his desk and launched onto Roy's jacket, settling himself against the colonel's back. "Urgh. Get off of me! I don't have time for this." He vainly tried to pry the creature off of his clothes, the angle awkward, but a warning growl and a swipe of a paw were his only rewards. An amused chuckle from the door announced Havoc's presence as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Well, colonel, feeling a little pussy whipped?" He stood there and laughed at his own pun as Roy glared, shaking out his sore fingers and plotting revenge. Havoc must have seen the promise in his eyes, because he coughed into his hand, cutting off his laughter. Riza held out Roy's black coat, expression carefully controlled, though he could see the amusement sparkle behind her mask.

"Hide him with this, sir. We should get moving."

"What would I ever do without you, Lieutenant?" Roy muttered, pulling the coat loosely over his shoulders to conceal the little demon digging its claws into his back.

"You would probably be just fine, sir," Riza said with a straight face, pulling a disbelieving snort from Havoc.

Before any more feline and whip related jokes could be made, Roy strode from his office, snagging the front of Havoc's jacket as he passed by. "We have work to do," the colonel professed once he got the attention of his men, and Havoc shivered as his gaze locked onto him, a dark promise ringing in Roy's words. Why didn't he ever keep his mouth shut, why!?

* * *

"Was it a gas leak?" Roy muttered to himself as he surveyed the destruction on the other side of the river. The damage was extensive. An entire section of the street had been destroyed, bringing down half of an apartment building behind it, debris blown everywhere as if some massive force had torn it apart from the inside. Several civilians and military police were scattered amongst the wreckage, shifting rubble while being carefully directed by the commanding officer on the field. A line of figures lay in a short line, covered in shrouds. Roy grimaced, knowing that the body count had only just begun.

Havoc stood beside him, a report clutched in his hand as he scratched the back of his head. A puff of smoke drifted in the air as he hummed to himself. "It looks like it," he answered the rhetorical question. "However, there are signs of a struggle in the surrounding sewers and a rather violent one at that."

"How far does the damage extend?" Roy asked. Jäger shifted on his back but he studiously ignored him.

"Underground there’s damaged infrastructure as far as two hundred yards along the river tunnel," Havoc explained, pointing to the east. "Also, this was found on the scene." He pulled a small square of paper from the stack in his hand and held it out, taking a long draw on his cigarette. Roy grabbed it and stared impassively.

A picture of a yellow coat, bloodied and torn, was held up by a nameless soldier. There was no doubt about it. It was the same clothing that Scar had been wearing last they encountered him. A thrill of the chase sparked in Roy's chest. They were close. He’d been here.

"Have they found the body yet?"

"Nope, not yet. Still clearing the rubble, though."

"I want your team working night and day to clear up this mess. I want his body found. Don't even take so much as a coffee break until it's done."

Havoc sucked in a quick breath, choking on smoke in surprise. "Jeez, colonel, give us a break. We've been working our asses off–"

Roy's glare silenced him, brow darkened with anger. "I don't get to rest until he’s found, so that means neither do you, understand?"

Havoc looked taken aback and Roy had to force himself to calm down. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I'll have someone come down with lunch in a few hours. Just get it done." He looked up, gaze softening slightly.

Havoc nodded, taking the silent apology for what it was. Sure, they were colonel and subordinate, but they were still friends and he knew Roy had been under ungodly pressure lately, enough to break any man. "We'll find him, Roy," he said, quietly enough so only they could hear. Then Havoc saluted and made his way to the wreckage, shouting orders as he passed.

Roy watched his back for a second, a sliver of warmth nearly bringing a smile to his face before he suppressed it. Instead, he set his lips into a determined scowl and turned on his heel, stalking in the direction Havoc had pointed, lower ranks scrambling out of his wake. He was directed to the service entrance to the tunnels. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and followed the light of flashing cameras until he came to the team documenting the damage.

"Report," Roy barked without preamble. The three startled investigators jumped at his presence, but swift salutes followed.

"Go get those photos developed and add it to the evidence file," one of the men said in a soft voice. The other two nodded and retreated toward the exit before the man beckoned Roy. "Please come this way." As they walked, he began explaining in a succinct tone, "There was a fight here, but as far as I can tell, no weapons were used. Instead, it looks like the same type of deconstruction alchemy that is the criminal Scar's M.O."

They came upon the first evidence of violence, a crushed section of the wall. "He was fighting against someone," the man continued, pushing up his glasses. "Or something. Whoever it was put up a hell of a fight." He gestured towards the opposite wall, where more sections crumbled. It looked like impact rather than deconstruction, as if something was thrown hard enough to shatter stone. Roy frowned, walking over to the indention.

"You don't say?" he said to himself, brushing a gloved finger over the crumbled section.

* * *

"Empathy...kill him."

I had no time for more than a startled 'huh?' before the crazed man launched himself at me, hand extended as if he intended to claw my eyes out. His forearm began glowing in the familiar light that I had witnessed shatter concrete and metal like they were made of pastries and I yelped, throwing myself back in terror.

The wall where I’d been standing shattered, spewing dust and filth in the air and I choked on it, backpedaling hastily. But Scar wasn't through yet. I only saw a flash of his malignant eyes before he barely missed a swipe at my head.

The world lurched and shimmered drunkenly around me, my equilibrium shattered by my time in captivity, and it was only through my enhanced strength and speed that I was able to keep up with the demon at all. I stumbled, my unnatural strength causing me to overcompensate, and I was flung into the opposite wall. I gasped as pain blinded me for a split second, shoulder cracking and ribs bruising as my body destroyed the wall behind me. I was healed a moment later but the self-inflicted blow staggered me. I couldn't avoid Scar's next hit to my midsection. Air forcefully vacated my lungs, winded as he used his non-lethal hand, and I was able to knock him away with a powerful shove.

Scar shouted in surprise as he was thrown into the darkness further down the tunnel, skidding across the filthy floor before dragging himself to a stop. He stared at me in disbelief before his anger hit me like a battering ram, violent and poisonous to my reeling mind.

I gasped, heart racing and bones quaking. What the hell? What the hell! I cast my eyes around for Lust and found her standing calmly against a wall, watching us. I opened my mouth to demand she–what? Explain? Help me? She merely smiled cruelly, pointing to my adversary.

I hardly needed the warning, his hatred letting me know he was already close. I snapped my eyes back to the battle at hand and darted past him, hearing him roar too close to my ear as I struggled to regain my body. I wasn't ready for this. I couldn't fight like this! I dodged around him and launched myself into the darkness, my enemy hot on my heels.

* * *

The investigator gestured for Roy to walk further in, pointing out pieces of evidence as they passed. "Several footprints embedded here, three more deconstructed sections of wall, several impacts…Blood."

Roy could see it now, even darker stains on the already dingy surface. He peered closely at the destruction, taking it in and trying to reconstruct what happened in his mind. He’d seen a battlefield or two in his time but nothing quite like this. It was raw, animalistic, and if the evidence team was to be believed, weaponless. Scar might have just gone on a random rampage, sure, but some of these impacts...humans were not capable of this. Not without alchemy. Another alchemist? It didn't look like it.

"Who were you fighting...?"

* * *

"Ah!" The wall beside me shattered and I was blinded by dust as I ducked aside. I could hear Scar coughing and growling, momentarily obscured. How was he even able to see in the first place? It was pitch black in here, he shouldn't–

"You can't dodge forever, abomination," he roared, coming at me again. I cried out and threw myself back, using his momentum to throw him away, but I underestimated his speed. He grabbed me by the arm and I only had a blinding flash of alchemy as a warning before I was thrown back by the violence of the transmutation, agony consuming me as it tore my arm apart. I crashed against another wall, shattering stone behind me. The pain was gone in a matter of seconds, but as before, my psyche was having a hard time processing the deluge of conflicting signals.

I launched myself forward, trying to take him out before he could grab me again, but only crashed into another wall as he danced out of the way. Red sparks blinded me as we clashed. I was barely able to control myself and he seemed to fare no better.

He had me cornered against a wall and I jerked instinctively, dropping to the floor and letting loose a vicious kick to his ribs. Something cracked beneath my foot and Scar was flung down the tunnel with a startled bark of pain.

I froze as the sound hit me, stomach roiling in recognition. Scar was picking himself off of the muck, hunched over and eyes blazing, his pain echoing in my mind and suddenly I wasn't seeing Scar, but another man in another place, tears in his eyes as I shattered the bones in his arm.

"NO!" I roared in defiance of the memory, bringing me back to a time and place where I had lost control for the first time and nearly killed someone. It didn't matter that he had deserved it, that he was despicable, a murderer. It wasn't _ me. _

Scar came at me again but it didn't matter that he rained blow after blow on me, my wounds healing in flashes of agony and relief, because I was trapped somewhere else, hearing another voice.

_ You never go for the kill. _

Orkan had said that to me a long time ago and back then I couldn't disagree. I always went to disable someone, never kill. I could make this excuse and that but deep down something always stopped me, no matter how violent our missions became or who came after us. 

Whether they deserved it or not.

_ Empathy...kill him. _

It was spoken so callously as if something of that nature were a commonplace task, a trip to the market or a load of laundry. Just what kind of world is this that an order to destroy someone’s life could be given so casually? Even the name she called me made that statement all the more ludicrous. How could _ empathy _ kill?

Because right now I felt his pain even as he inflicted it on me. It _ tore _ at me, both emotionally and physically. Nothing he did to me eased his pain and I couldn't kill him no matter how much he hurt me. It didn't _ matter _ if he was going to finish me off and move onto the next victim because it wasn't going to be me that ended his life. I _ couldn’t. _

I began to fight back, body remembering its strength as my mind took a back seat. I acted on instinct now, rusted muscle memory shedding the dust out of necessity and guiding my movements. I dodged and parried, danced around my increasingly frustrated adversary as my mind raced.

There had to be another way. No matter how violent this world became, I’d never broken that unspoken promise to myself. Even through everything that had happened to me, that was something about my nature that had never changed regardless of the form I took.

Scar screamed, his attacks becoming more wild and destructive by the second as I regained my equilibrium and thwarted everything he threw at me. His pain was so potent, bared down to his soul, and an inkling of an idea began to form in my mind as I calmed in contrast, the familiar pressure I had become so accustomed to building behind my eyes.

Screw Lust. Or better yet, she could go screw herself. I may agree that this maniac had to be stopped but I wasn't going to kill, not for her, not for anybody. Because if I did, I might lose that last little piece of myself that I had left.

Scar was getting tired now, the tunnel in ruin, and I knew I had to act fast before it collapsed around our ears.

"Enough!" I shouted, and instead of dodging Scar's arm I grabbed it and pinned him against me. I held him close as he roared, the thrill of holding a wild, untamed animal running up my spine as I brought my other hand to the side of his face. There was a hiss of release and the smell of something acrid burned my nose as it washed over us, but I ignored it to keep him from struggling. 

"I will take away–" His eyes widened as my hand began to spark with the energy my philosopher's stone generated, my own power manifesting. "–YOUR RAGE!"

Sparks erupted from my hand and flashed in his widened eyes.

The spark crackled, ignited, and an explosion ripped us apart.

* * *

The walk came to an abrupt end as a wall of rubble blocked the path entirely. "This is where one of the gas lines leading to the power plant ruptured," the investigator said softly, his quiet voice in stark contrast to the blatant violence that had happened here. "In retrospect, it could have been a lot worse. Luckily the safety shafts were triggered, limiting the damage."

"That's all you have," Roy asked, staring at the rubble and the patches of light filtering in from the street above.

"Yes, sir. Will that be all?" Roy cut the soldier a glance, seeing his obvious impatience to get back to work.

"Yes. Have a copy of your findings sent to me as soon as they’re ready." The man gave the affirmative before walking back down the tunnel with swift strides. Roy sighed once he was alone, a bad feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. Something told him they would not be finding Scar's body anytime soon. He doubted that this explosion took him down.

But that wasn't really what bothered him the most at the moment, if he was being honest with himself. He restlessly scanned over the damaged areas, again and again, wondering just who–or what–had given Scar such a fight. Edward's account of those who called themselves homunculi rang loudly in his ears as the suspicion formed in his mind.

As the last steps of the departing man faded into silence, Jäger squirmed and wiggled his way out of Roy's jacket to wind around his neck. It looked around with curious eyes, nose pointed in the air. Fed up, Roy was about to try and dislodge it from his person but a hiss in his ear had him flinching instead.

Jäger suddenly tensed and launched himself from the man's shoulder, causing him to stumble a bit at the force. Damn, the little thing was getting heavy. "Jäger, what the hell! I knew I should have–"

Roy cut himself off sharply as the beast began to shuffle around the ground, nose twitching and reptilian tongue tasting the air. It vibrated in excitement as a dark stain grabbed its attention and jumped, tail slashing through the air as it began to dig in earnest at a pile of rubble on the ground. Roy walked up behind Jäger curiously, noticing the suddenly doglike behavior and wondering if it had lost its little mind.

That is until it found what it was looking for. With sharp teeth the chimera pulled something from the rubble and dropped it, sniffing and tasting the air frantically. The colonel crouched in bemusement, picking up a soft piece of black fabric the creature had already lost interest in, snuffling around some more. He examined it closely, noting the burnt edges and dark stains of sticky moisture.

Was it significant? Did it belong to one of Scar's opponents? Why would Jäger react, unless his hunch was right and the homunculi were involved? But if that was the case, then...He eyed the chimera. It used to belong to Alex. Could he have been here…?

Jäger's ears perked and the beast looked down the tunnel, shoulders tensing. Roy only had time to straighten in alarm before it bolted into the darkness.

"Dammit!" Roy took off in hot pursuit, cursing when he slipped on something slick. His heart hammered in his chest as adrenaline spiked down his spine. The damn beast had smelled something. Alex had been here! He struggled to keep up but the chimera was too fast, disappearing into the dark tunnel. Roy cursed in his mother’s tongue, frantically trying to pick up the creature’s trail. Why didn't he put a tracker on that thing when he had the chance?

Roy nearly bowled over the officer that assisted him earlier, practically threw him out of the way, determined not to lose his only lead in ten days. A few minutes passed before Roy was forced to stop, tunnel branching in three directions. Like a trapped animal his head swung from one direction to the other, struggling to find a sign of Jäger in the gloom, but it was no use. The chimera was gone.

He straightened and calmed his racing heart as feet pounding from behind announced that he’d soon have company. Roy ran a frustrated hand through his hair, glaring into the darkness fruitlessly. Two soldiers came to a stop, asking if he needed assistance, but he ignored them. Alex had been here, fighting with Scar. But why? Had Scar found him or was it the other way around? And, more importantly, had Alex been doing it of his own volition or was someone pulling his strings?

Roy shook his head, filing away the questions for later. Alex had been so close, right under their noses. He turned and stalked back the way he came, cursing himself for not being faster. He could only hope that the beast found his master, because wherever Alex was Roy felt sure he could use a friend. Jäger would just have to do until they could find him and bring him home.

Right now he needed to wrap up this manhunt with Scar and then find out where these tunnels lead. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Hm. Hmmmmm. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

I shifted in my seat, grimacing at the cool hardness that seeped through my thin pants. I ignored the discomfort. Happy thoughts. A soft sound to my right distracted me momentarily but I brushed it aside, thoroughly absorbed inward.

_ Think of sunlight against your skin, Nina when she laughs, the way Roy looked that night you brought him wine… _

I sat in a lotus position and had been for hours on end. Not that I really noticed the time passing. After my stay in my empty prison, I seemed to have gained the ability to completely shut out reality in favor of my thoughts. And here I thought I was no good at meditating. My old instructors would be so proud. Kind of sucks that it was born out of necessity but useful now, because my thoughts and emotions were somewhat of a jumbled mess at the moment. 

Another shift beside me and a delicate huff disturbed my peace, causing a frown to mar my face. Happy thoughts...

_ Lust with a bullet through her head _….there we are. That lovely image brought a genuine smirk to my lips, though it was only a twitch.

"Empathy…"

"Hush," I reprimanded and an irritated scratch against stone was my reward. My smirk got a little wider.

I finally cracked open an eye. Lust sat beside me with all the grace and poise of a woman sitting upon her throne rather than a filthy piece of rubble. Candlelight flickered across her pale skin dully and flashed against her eyes, ever-threatening. I couldn't see much outside of our little bubble of light, but as far as I could figure we lingered in some kind of old underground processing plant, long abandoned. Why we were still in the sewers was anyone's guess, but I figured it had something to do with keeping me out of the public eye until Lust was ready to take me to...wherever it was she needed me to be. Either that or this was just where the homunculi always hung out. I couldn't bring myself to care at this point.

My captor crossed her arms in agitation and I shook my head infinitesimally, not entirely believing my eyes. The ever poised and patient homunculus was starting to show, well, impatience. I had never seen this from her before; this woman who had seemed to be so powerful and in control, everything going according to her whim, was _pouting_. It was almost surreal that, for the moment, she actually listened to my demands. It may be out of necessity, but her momentary weakness gave me just the slightest hope that she wasn't as all-powerful as she seemed. Thus my current–if not suicidal–smugness.

"Are you quite finished?" she demanded, tone droll as she placed her chin on a delicate hand.

"Lust..." I responded. "We've been over this. If you don't want me to go on a complete mad rampage, I suggest you let me finish my meditation." With that, I closed my eyes once more. Happy thoughts. Her unladylike grumbling was a satisfying reward.

We’d had this argument before. I'm not sure how long we've been in this stalemate but I would say at least a day if my–albeit rusty–internal clock was to be trusted. I don't know what'd gotten her so uptight, considering just how pleased she seemed at the discovery of my new ability. No doubt she’d already come up with infinite ways to use it to her advantage, but whether it was how long I was taking to adjust to my new burden or my attitude, she was not happy with me at the moment. Tough shit. I had other things to worry about.

I don’t think I'll ever be able to quite describe what it was like to absorb someone else's emotions as I’d done to Scar. In some sick way, I was _fascinated. _ At that moment when all seemed lost, I instinctively acted on a suspicion I’d had since the philosopher's stone was inserted within me: that I had power over others’ emotions. But that wasn't quite right. That would imply that I could change how they felt. That wasn't what happened. Instead, I...absorbed Scar's rage so that it was inside of me instead of him. It made sense if 'empathy' is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

As much as anything made sense in this backward place.

In that fleeting second, I saw Scar's enraged eyes become empty, confused, and even afraid. Then his stolen emotions hit me like a battering ram to the chest, all of the murderous fury that I’d only gotten a taste of infusing me all at once. I _ hated_. I wanted to tear the man within my reach to _pieces_. And he could see it in my eyes.

Luckily–or perhaps unluckily, depending on your perspective–I didn't have any time to act on it. There was some sort of gas explosion as far as I could figure from my stilted memory, and then rage was the last thing on my mind as I was torn apart from behind. Red sparks and the image of a limping figure getting away through the dust was all I knew for a while as my body regenerated, so I assume Scar made it out alive. I was hardly in a position to care, however, as I was forced to completely shut out the world in favor of dealing with the newest rage monster doing its best to break free and consume me. 

Unfortunately, that left me at the mercy of a displeased Lust, who dragged my body out of the rubble to make our getaway.

Lucky for her I didn't lead her on a merry chase while I destroyed half the city in a monstrous rage, because no amount of threatening on her part would have stopped me. I was beyond reason or fear, my soul roiling in a mass of molten hatred. If I hadn't been so accustomed to controlling the stone at that point, that would have been my fate. As it was, I’d compressed Scar's rage into a tiny ball of attrition in the very back of my soul, locking it away like so many skeletons in my closet.

Thus the fascination. It felt separate from the other emotions within the philosopher's stone, as if it were its own entity that wouldn’t merge nor dissipate. Even as I attempt to describe it as something physical, I could say with certainty that it wasn’t quite that. It brought into question just what the rage was. Some form of energy? Perhaps a piece of Scar's soul? I wondered if it was something I could utilize or just another burden. Whatever the case, I was able to lock it away.

Several hours ago, in fact, and thus my current suicidal compulsion to have some sort of control over my captor even in this small way, if only for a moment. Lust was forced to listen to me on this or face the aforementioned (if not entirely accurate) consequences.

For even Lust the lascivious, powerful homunculus as she was, could not face Empathy in fair combat and win. At least, not without her little power ploys. Someday soon, I would find a way to break from her...someday soon.

Lust shifted abruptly and I opened my eyes warily to take in her suddenly content features with some trepidation. "It no longer matters," she said, looking into the darkness. "Our friends have arrived."

I tensed, eyes scanning the darkness, but I could sense nor see a soul. My brow furrowed in confusion.

"So, the prodigal prince has awakened," a malicious voice echoed from the gloom and I jumped. I squinted in recognition a moment later, stomach sinking with dread as I remembered the night of my abduction with unfortunate clarity.

The rest of the ‘family' had arrived. Joy of joys.

My legs unfolded slowly, readying for an attack. The man chuckled, the very idea of someone like me standing up to him laughable. "No need for that _little brother_. Don't get your feathers ruffled."

I hardly relaxed as two forms drifted silently from the shadows, a bulbous man coming into view first. I cringed at the strange insanity in his white eyes. He wasn't staring at me though, but Lust, a long finger clutched in his mouth and an imploring look on the woman who studiously ignored him.

A thin man drew my eyes away from the first as he stepped around. At least, I thought he was male. He seemed feminine in movement, lithe hips swaying and legs exposed proudly. Long black hair fell over his shoulders, waist length and impeccably straight, held back from his face with a thin piece of fabric. His fair face fell into a wide grin and his red-violet eyes glinted with amusement and vanity. "Like what you see?"

First impression, terrible. So he was one of _ those _ guys, so conceited and insecure they felt the need to constantly compete with those around them. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I merely said, "You aren't remotely my type," before dismissing him with a flippant wave. Inwardly I winced as his grin slid into a dangerous frown, struggling to keep my face neutral. Great, I thought, just piss off all of the powerful things that can kill you. I really needed to get a handle on this dangerous attitude I seemed to have fallen into since my release.

A chuckle beside me eased me somewhat however, as Lust clearly took amusement from my statement. The glare had been fixed on me from the stranger redirected at the delicate snort, decidedly more malicious. "Looks like that 'perfect form' of yours is not so perfect after all, Envy," Lust said huskily, resting her chin on her hand, the picture of ease. As I observed the exchange, I couldn't help but feel I’d stumbled upon a long-standing rivalry. I tucked the information away for future reference. Could be useful...

Envy's glare intensified before a seamless transition turned his lips with a smugness that would make anyone's blood curl in irritation. "That's easily fixed." His attention fell once more on me and I remained motionless, giving nothing away. Hips swaying in what I can only assume was an attempt to be seductive, he sauntered forward. I glanced over at Lust, somewhat nervous, but she only assumed a bored and vaguely indulgent smile. 

"Hm...just what kind of man are you, Empathy? I'm dying to know." My eyes widened slightly as sparks began flashing up his form, and gasped as a startling transformation took place. His hips widened, his chest inflated and his lips turned red as blood, even as his hair shortened in length, fluttering just above his collarbone and turning golden as sunlight. "Do you dream," 'he' said, voice lightened to the daintiest of lilts, "about soft curves beneath your palms."

_ He can change his appearance_, my mind supplied redundantly as I gaped, mouth hanging open. At his smug expression, a spark of dark irritation snapped my jaw closed, and I brushed off my shock in favor of a bored stare. I derived probably more pleasure than was necessary (or healthy) when Envy's eye twitched. Two could play this game.

"Not your style, hm? I can't say I blame you for finding this form," he glanced at Lust and she sneered, "distasteful. Perhaps this…" and he changed form again, this time a much slimmer girl, looking closer to Edward's age with short black hair.

A small smile began growing on my face and I had to hold back an incredulous laugh. He seemed to take my expression as a challenge. "No? Then," He changed again, and this time I couldn't hold it back. I huffed. It was a woman again, but this time vaguely ugly.

"Are you trying to guess my _ type? _"

A dangerous growl was my only warning before a vicious grip closed around my neck, choking off my air supply. "Why you little–" Before I could even register what was happening, Lust was on her feet and my neck released, leaving stinging trails where fingernails had scraped skin. I wheezed as I caught a glimpse of Envy's body regenerating from numerous lacerations on the very edge of our light, yards away from where he started. There were curious deep gorges on the ground where his feet had dragged, the only evidence he’d been in my space at all. I glanced between the two, rubbing my neck with feigned nonchalance even as I inwardly trembled. I needed to be more careful if I was going to survive this. But that was just it: I needed an outlet or I would go mad. Too bad the easiest target was one of the most deadly creatures in existence. Still, despite the danger, I couldn't help but let out a last hoarse giggle at my newest enemy's disgruntled expression.

"Do not," Lust growled in the most glacial of tones, "touch what is _ mine _."

Well. That killed the mood. My amusement fell, buried beneath acute discomfort as a stalemate ensued between the two, the air crackling with aggression, two apex predators competing for territory–for _ me, _ regardless of what I had to say about it. 

A small gasp drew my attention to the previously ignored second arrival. The overweight...creature…dropped his hand and wore an aggrieved expression as if the world was ending, staring at Lust with hurt and longing. He turned his empty eyes and I flinched, slowly backing away.

It was like the moment a new kitten was introduced to the home of an old tomcat, comfortable in its territory and possessive of its humans.

Guess who's the new cat.

"Lust…" the creature whimpered, her words seeming to dawn on him. The two seething rivals ignored him.

"Lust?" I tried as well and she acknowledged me with an irritated look, but my gaze was locked on the slowly changing expression of the madman who stood a little too close for comfort. "I hate to interrupt but…"

"Oh, this _ is _ precious," Envy suddenly said, regaining his original form and confidence in a split second. "Looks like Gluttony just realized mommy has a new favorite."

"What?" Gluttony whimpered in a disturbingly young voice. "What is it? Can I eat it, Lust…?"

"No," Lust snapped and I drew in a quick breath through my teeth. She really wasn't helping this delicate situation. It looked like any second the creature would snap and attempt to tear me apart if it thought I would steal her away. Lust seemed to realize this as well and her tone became decidedly softer. "This is our new friend, Empathy. You can't eat him." He whimpered again."Oh, stop it. If you're good, I'll let you have a little snack at the prison later." She couldn't have appeared any more disgusted and resigned, yet Gluttony didn't even notice. His face lit up like Christmas had come early and he seemed to completely forget about me for the moment. It was an unsettling transition from his previous intensity and I couldn't help but feel that if insanity had a poster child, it would be this creature.

That...might be a problem. Envy, I could deal with, as his motivations were obvious. This creature...I would have to watch him closely. He seemed to have a connection with Lust, worship that would be extremely unhealthy for me to get in the middle of. 

There was _no way _ I was going to get into a fight with him for Lust's _attention_. Just, no.

Heart easing back into its normal pace, I slipped off the wall and put Gluttony on the other side of the pale woman, using her as a shield against any surprise fits of rage. Envy eyed me with clear amusement even as Gluttony relaxed with 'his' Lust no longer blocked from view.

"I see you are recovered," Lust assumed dryly, and I nodded, no longer interested in prolonging this game while the others were here. "Then let us get to business," she continued, leaning back languidly against the rubble we had been occupying moments before. "What is the latest."

Envy rolled his eyes, mumbling 'buzzkill' under his breath. "Same as before. The target is locked in his office hitting dead end after dead end." Clearly, the man didn't think much of this 'target', but then again, I couldn't imagine Envy thinking anything positive about anyone at all.

"Careful, Envy, you know as well as I do what a setback it would be for Father if he tries to interfere."

I flicked my gaze between the two suspiciously, trying my best to follow. Father...like the man I met at the Gate? And why were they speaking so candidly in front of me? Did they believe me so under their control that any thought of me ruining their plans didn't cross their minds? 

Perhaps they did. _ Looks like I'm well and truly part of the pack now, _ I thought, depressed.

I cast a nervous glance at Gluttony, but he merely sat swiping at something only he could see.

"Yeah, yeah. So why not just kill him?" My head snapped back around with a thrill of alarm. I remembered the rather violent assassination of Shou Tucker and swallowed, hoping–perhaps futily– that I would not have to be involved in such a task. The way Lust liked to play with me though...I didn't think I would have any choice.

"As usual, you aren't thinking," Lust drawled and Envy growled. "Just killing him isn't going to work. It's too conspicuous. We need someone to blame."

I did not like this. At all. Someone had clearly gotten on the wrong side of these creatures and was going to pay the price. Just what had this target discovered that would ruffle them? Come to think of it, what _was _their plan? Lust had only ever spoken of saving me, never what the bigger picture was. All I knew was that they needed alchemists, namely the Elrics, to complete it. I shuddered to think of the possibilities. Somehow I didn't think it would be good for those boys, nor the people dwelling above us. I’d already seen what these creatures' manipulations could do to a community, much less a huge city like Central. I scowled darkly in frustration. I couldn't do anything about it in my current situation but continue to wait and watch...

"What about one of his subordinates, then? You know, the one that always follows him like a puppy?" At this, Envy casually changed form, sparks flitting through the dark to cast striking shadows on the walls before they faded to black. The shapeshifter stared Lust down with a new stolen identity.

All color drained from my face. Before I could control my reaction, a strangled gasp escaped my throat as I was confronted with one of the last people I thought I would see in this dank, dark place. Barret, tall and tan, stood before me with an uncustomary grin on his face. He leaned back, demented smile looking so wrong on his usually impassive nature, eyes devoid of any warmth I might have come to recognize there. In that interminable moment, I was filled with a nameless dread, a suspicion that froze my blood. _ No...no, no, no. Not him. Please don't be talking about who I think you're talking about... _

My shocked gaze landed on Lust and I realized my mistake too late to hide my true reaction. She and the disturbing imitation of my friend eyed me with sudden interest. I took an involuntary step back.

"Oh, that's right…" Envy said gleefully in his stolen voice and my stomach roiled at the _wrongness_. "You were staying at _ his _ house, weren't you?"

No...it can't be...please let me be wrong. "Maybe we should let you do it," Lust hummed, fake affection in her voice. "After all, you did so very well with that scarred man…And this would be the perfect test of loyalty..."

"No," I gasped immediately, taking another step in reverse. "I won't!" 

"What was that?" The woman bared her teeth in a feral grin and an icy shiver crawled up my spine. She stood from her languid position and used her superior height to loom over me. Suddenly, I shared Edward's hatred for being short, though she now only had an inch on me at best. It may as well have been a dozen. "You don't get to say that to me, pet." She gripped my jaw tightly, digging her nails into the soft skin, and licked her lips at my pained whimper. "You will do as I say or I will have you locked away so long, you will forget everything but me..."

Envy looked between us with interest, but I had no attention to spare for him. She was serious, I could see it in her eyes. Even now, madness lingered on the edges of my consciousness, just waiting to pounce as soon as I slipped. I couldn't go back there...not again. If I did, I would lose myself for real this time. I would become just like Gluttony, a vacant thing for this woman's amusement.

That terrified me more than any physical pain she could ever inflict.

But...I couldn't do it. I couldn't make the choice between my own life and the life of someone I held so dear. I shook my head slowly. Her frown only deepened, digging her nails so harshly I could feel droplets of blood slide down my neck.

Suddenly, her face cleared and she released me, stroking my abused skin softly. I flinched in confusion.

"Okay, love. I won't make you." Her fangs glinted. "I'll just do it instead."

I froze. _ Wh-what? _ She ran her fingers through my hair, clearly enjoying the dawning horror painted all over my face.

"Oooh, can I eat him, Lust?" Gluttony suddenly piped in, grin widening his overly large mouth, stretching way past a normal width to consume his lower jaw. Inhuman. My heart jumped as Lust's eyes filled with alarming anticipation.

Suddenly, red was all I could see, splashes in violent bursts of gore. "NO!" I shouted, slapping her hand away. My head jerked back and forth between the three of them; Envy's amusement, Lust's smugness, and Gluttony's ravenous hunger. "I won't let you touch him!" I clenched my jaw tightly, adrenaline and dread piercing my heart with a vicious point. I knew what I had to do. I couldn't let them touch him, for they would show no mercy, would destroy him utterly before violently taking his life. Who knew if they would even stop at him? What if they went after his family? Bile burned my throat at the gruesome possibility. No, no, not them, _ please_.

It would have to be me.

I forced my shoulders to relax with a deep breath and straightened, opening my eyes slowly. As I had before, I allowed anger to harden my heart. Envy lifted an eyebrow and I returned his look with a glare. "He's mine."

I would do this because I owed him everything for taking in Nina, for the kindness he had shown me and the Elric brothers, and because he was one of the most decent men I have ever known. My blood turned to ice as I sent Lust my coldest stare. I would do this because there was no way I was going to let this _witch _and her cronies touch him.

For my love for him and everything he and his family had done for mine...I would eliminate Maes Hughes.

* * *

Hughes hummed softly as he tucked his girls beneath soft sheets. It was a quiet night and his little darlings would sleep well, safe in their beds.

"Mister Hughes," Nina whispered, and Maes smiled a little sadly as she still refused to call him daddy like his little girl. But perhaps it was just as well. After all, she had someone else out there who cared for her just as much as he did. In the end, it would be her decision who she called father... Those two had been through so much together, after all. He didn't think Alex realized just how much he meant to this child.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Maes whispered back, mindful of his little Elicia sleeping in her crib just feet away.

"When will you come back? You keep staying at work…it's lonely."

Hughes' heart curled in his chest at the adorableness of this little angel. "Don't worry, I'll be home soon. I just have a few more things to do at the office. In the morning, we can go for ice cream, okay?"

Gracia smiled softly from the doorway, watching. Nina giggled as the family man cuddled her belly, excited for the treat she would get tomorrow. The next day Maes had promised to take a day off to take the girls, something he had not been able to do for much too long. It would be good to see them bond again.

"Night, night," Maes said, and Nina mumbled a response before rolling over. The man placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before going over to the smaller bed and repeating the same on his youngest child. The door clicked softly behind him, leaving the nightlight to illuminate their dreams.

Gracia pulled her husband into a hug, comforted by the warmth of his arms around her. "Be careful, okay?"

Hughes pulled back and placed a quick, teasing kiss on her nose, delighting in her giggle. He grinned. "I always am!"

Gracia watched with a smile as her husband left the house with a jaunty wave. That night, she took a calming cup of tea before reading a chapter of her favorite book. The novel fell limply from her lap as she slipped into a comfortable sleep, waiting for him to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that followed this fic over the past few years, I'm telling you now that the next chapters will be different from the original. I honestly don't remember what my reasoning for some of the decisions I made was before I went on hiatus and my new plans don't really mesh well with some of that (which was honestly partly why I went on hiatus in the first place; I kind of lost the thread of the story). Won't be too drastic, I think, but some pieces will be moved around, some motivations changed.
> 
> For everyone else, doesn't matter! Please, continue to enjoy! I really appreciate every encouraging word that comes my way. It inspires me like nothing else~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse is reborn, the boys pay their teacher a visit.

A metallic click echoed impossibly long as darkness consumed everything, sensationless and absolute. Alphonse waited patiently, the last image he knew his brother's strained face as he placed Alphonse's shell into Winry's construction and closed the hatch. The sudden blindness was disorienting and for a moment there was no change at all. But then, a void seemed to open around him and it was as if the Alphonse _expanded_. He felt himself almost physically swell, much more freely than he could remember feeling in ages, and his soul sang in relief.

Weeks. He had been trapped in a tiny formless shell for _weeks _since the tragedy of lab five where his autonomy was utterly destroyed. So long as a mere object, unable to move, to do anything but watch the world drift by from his place next to his older brother's heart. As time went on, his very being feeling compressed into something much too small, he had felt increasingly inhuman, increasingly damaged. No one but his brother, Winry and the mechanics spoke to him because to everyone else he was an object, just a pretty pendant. It was maddening and terribly lonely. Only the hope of a new body, closer to his brother's than Al had been for years, kept him going.

Oh, of course, Edward and Winry had tried to include him. They constantly talked to him and asked his opinion on things to keep him engaged, and Garfiel and Skylor were of course understanding and did their best. But as the days dragged on, he couldn't help but become more and more withdrawn. He could see it in the way Edward looked at him that this form and Alphonse's choice terrified him beyond reason, putting deep shadows beneath his golden eyes and causing his heart to race noticeably when Alphonse took too long to respond. The younger boy so hated to see that; to be the source of his beloved brother's pain. But Al needed this with his entire being, and even this hardship could not convince him his choice was wrong. Alphonse tried hard to comfort him and reassure Ed whenever he could, but the stress made it difficult. It had been trying on both of them.

But now...now Al could feel himself expanding, growing larger to fill in the new house for his soul and his heart _ soared_. In the future, if anyone ever asked he could say with certainty that souls did indeed take physical form, because how else would he have felt this stretching freedom? Curious, but wonderful, like taking in a deep breath after ages underwater.

For several moments, blindness kept him from the outside world and he could hear nothing as his soul conformed to its new shape. Soon enough, however, the feeling of 'settling' ended, and the world snapped into focus as if someone flicked on the lights.

Garfiel's shop greeted him. Al drank in the details of the older man’s meticulously organized workspace greedily from his new height. His new body was in a seated position, but already he felt larger than life. A small gasp drew his attention to the others in the room and Al turned his head slowly towards Winry.

Momentarily, Alphonse was stunned as he _moved _and he took a brief second to revel. He could shift his perspective at will again after so long with no control and it just might be one of the most wonderful sensations he has ever experienced, even if he still couldn’t actually feel. Alphonse gazed at Winry literally with new eyes.

The young woman looked a mess, skin drawn and filthy and long shadows above her cheekbones, but he couldn't help but notice the joy and fierce pride that watered her baby blues with emotion. Skylor, just as filthy and exhausted, stood behind her with a large hand placed on her new apprentice's dainty shoulder and expression just as proud.

At Winry's gasp, Edward's head snapped up from where he still fiddled with Alphonse's chest plate. Ah, so it had only been a couple of seconds then. Funny, it had felt a lot longer.

His older brother's expression was something to see and Alphonse couldn't help but let out a huffing giggle. "Alphonse," Edward whispered, eyes wide and hand trembling as he lifted it towards Al's face. Disbelief and relief were so plain in his eyes, easing his features like nothing had these past weeks since so much misfortune had befallen them, that Alphonse wished he had a camera to capture this moment forever.

"Yeah," Alphonse whispered back just as quietly. Like the clouds parting after an endless storm, Edward's lips drew into a genuine smile.

Winry let out a laugh of pure exhilaration and jumped in place. "We did it!" Skylor pulled her into a one-armed hug with a grin and pulled a blushing Garfiel in for a kiss. He swatted her playfully before tucking an errant strand of hair behind his wife's ear, then threw his own large arms around them both and picked them up. Both women shrieked and laughed, weeks of sleepless nights and stress of labor falling off their shoulders with the thrill of success.

Alphonse and Edward only had eyes for each other, trapped in the world only an Elric could know. The blond smiled blindingly and held his automail hand out in front of him. Slowly, Alphonse lifted his own hand and clasped it. He stared in wonder. Their hands were identical gunmetal grey, fingers and joints gleaming in the soft light.

Alphonse looked up and dropped their connected hands. Before Edward could even frown in confusion, the boy did something that he had only dreamed of doing for so long; something he was half-convinced he would never be able to do again without fear of injuring his flesh brother with sharp edges of metal.

He pulled his older brother into his arms and held him.

Edward's breath hitched as he felt cool metal surround him gently and draw him close. For a split second, he tensed as the unfamiliar arms trapped him, but then the unmistakable aura of his little brother made it through to him and he gripped him back just as fiercely with a strangled whimper. This wasn't the harsh shell Alphonse had been forced into for years, but as close to a soft human body that could be created with a non-alchemist's hand. Smooth surfaces and gentle curves, though cold to the touch, felt as familiar as his own automail and infinitely more precious.

The Elric brothers shared a proper hug for the first time since they destroyed their bodies, all those years ago.

A sniff broke into their moment of reverie, and suddenly both boys found themselves in the fierce embrace a sobbing Winry. They opened their arms with half-choked laughs and drew her in as well, the small family reveling in their success as the stress of the past weeks fell from their young shoulders, one less burden in their harsh reality.

Skylor and Garfiel watched on with matching grins, even the usually immaculate man covered in the filth of their labors. It had been a long and hard project, but one of the most rewarding and innovative they had ever been a part of. Impossible had been made reality, and before them was a living man made entirely of metal, alive and conscious as any human. Skylor gave her husband a wink and leaned against his sturdy frame. Eventually, though, the blacksmith became impatient and clapped her hands together loudly, interrupting the kid's excitement. Garfiel tutted beside her but she ignored his mild disapproval.

"Alright, kiddies, enough of this emotional shit! We have some field testing to do!"

All three youths pulled back to stare at her, faces in various states of emotion, but soon enough Edward's lips lifted into a fierce grin. "Come on, Al! Let's go!"

"Yeah!"

Winry and Edward stepped back to give the boy space. Alphonse cautiously placed his metal fingers beside his slim hips and levered himself up. Metal joints moved smoothly and synthetic muscles clenched and released as they should. With the slightest of clanks, Alphonse stood to his full height.

A flash of annoyance danced across Edward's expression before he could hide it and Alphonse couldn't help but inwardly smile. They’d decided that he should retain the height he had when he‘d been a suit of armor to lessen the shock of the transition. To others, it would look as if he’d merely changed from one weird suit to another. Besides that, there was a distinct advantage to one of them appear to be an adult in their travels. Unfortunately for his big brother, that meant he was still much taller than Edward. Still, even Ed's annoyance couldn't temper his excitement. 

Before Edward could speak Winry beat him to the punch. "Ooooooh, your muscles are working perfectly! Can you walk? Move your arms up and down, let me see!"

Laughing, Alphonse took an obliging step forward. His metal hips shifted realistically, and momentarily he felt off-balance. It had been too long since he had been in a body whose torso wasn't completely stiff. Still, a couple of steps later he got the hang of it, walking slowly around Garfiel's shop under the close eye of all three mechanics in the room.

The components of the automaton's head and torso had to be completely built from scratch. Pistons and synthetic muscles took the place of flesh while plated steel replaced skin. The arms and legs were the precise design of Edward's own with a few modifications from the two Rush Valley residents, a similarity Alphonse liked very much. A plated chest piece was hollowed on the inside where Edward could place Alphonse's pendant without having to actually bind the metal together. It was a suggestion from Skylor when Edward repeatedly expressed fear of doing so, and so the hollowed center held an indention where Alphonse's soul-seal pendant could fit snugly and still be protected by the strongest steel created by man. Sliding plates took the place of abdominal muscles while cords of flexible steel (courtesy of Garfiel) created ribs. Similar, if thicker, plates made up the spine, a sturdy construction that would both support his hollow diaphragm while being flexible enough to allow the most natural movement possible. Winry was especially proud of this feature and had high hopes that this adaptation would be able to help those with paralysis from the waist down.

Lastly, adorned on Alphonse's new head was the Xingese mask the Elrics had found, and in place of the teardrop crest, Izumi's Flamel symbol was emblazoned proudly against reinforced white porcelain.

"Hm," Winry mumbled, stopping Alphonse by placing her hands on his hips.

"Ah, Winry! Hey!" Alphonse protested as the young mechanic proceeded to shift them this way and that without regard to his balance or personal space. If Alphonse had blood, he would have blushed.

At Edward's barking laugh, Winry looked up from her mutterings in confusion.

"Ah, Winry, dear," Garfiel said delicately. "I know you've had your hands all over this project for weeks, but now that Alphonse is in there, it might seem a bit...ahem." He pointed down to their risque position.

The young woman blinked innocently before looking down to where her hands were placed, Alphonse's own up in surrender while he leaned away.

"Ah!" Winry snatched her hands back as if burned. "Sorry, Al, I should have asked first!"

Edward was laughing uproariously at this point. Despite being heartened to hear it, Alphonse couldn't help but be annoyed as the older boy laughed at his expense.

"Ha-ha, Ed," Winry grumbled with a slight blush. "You won't be laughing next time my hands are all over _ you _ at your next fitting." Edward's laughter cut off abruptly with a flush and it was Alphonse's turn to laugh. Still, Edward’s embarrassment couldn't stop him from joining in, much too happy to let it bother him for long.

Edward dropped his automail hand on his brother's shoulder with a satisfying clank of metal. "Come on, Al, there's only one way to test out a new set of automail."

He grinned fiercely and Alphonse returned the sentiment. "You're on!"

"Wait, you are not going to beat each other up and ruin my–Hey are you listening! I'm talking to you!" But the two boys were already gone, out the door and into the studio towards the exit. Winry's eyes widened in alarm. 

"Wait, Al, you're naked!"

She dashed off after them, a bundle of black cloth and leather clutched in her hands. The two elders in the room shook their heads at the energy these kids still had. As the room quieted, Garfiel leaned against his strong wife and she slipped an arm around his waist. "Hm, shouldn't we go watch?" Garfiel wondered.

"Nah," Skylor scoffed, but then it quickly widened into a yawn. "If something comes up, girly can handle it. In the meantime…" She pulled his chin towards her gently and smiled deviously. "Shower?"

His returning smile was radiant. "Ah, my dear, I knew I proposed to you for a reason. Besides," he wrinkled his nose with a once over of her filthy form. "You definitely need one."

"Hah!" She swatted him in mock anger before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs to their apartment. Garfiel's roaring laugh followed them all the way up until the door closed with a slam.

\---

A shrouded, short figure stood in an alley across the street from Garfiel's Automail Shop, leaning casually against a dumpster. From his concealed position he couldn't see much, only glimpses of the project his new master had asked him to watch. And boy, had it kept him busy running in between Skylor's Forge and this place trying to keep track of it. But that was what you did when the man who saved you from torture and experimentation asked you to do something, no matter how tedious.

Imagine his surprise when a man the exact same size as the automail construction he had seen these people building walked out of the very same establishment of his own accord. Granted, he was covered head to toe in strange black armor, but that mask the spy had only seen a glimpse of was very much identical. Oh yes, his master would be very interested in this development, very interested indeed…

With a sharp grin beneath his shroud, the short figure slunk into the darkness of the alley and disappeared from sight. 

Edward, Alphonse, and Winry ran on, unaware of who's dangerous attention they’d garnered. For them, it was a brief moment of joy in an otherwise dismal world, and they would revel in it as long as they were able.

* * *

_ Edward walked slowly down the darkened hall, sleep dragging his footsteps and eyelids down. A warm hand clutched his, reassuring and comfortable. The hand tugged slightly and he glanced back with blurred vision to make sure his companion was still awake behind him. _

_ A young Alphonse wandered along, face soft with sleep as Edward guided him across the chilly floor. The sun was already rising, they could see it through the kitchen window as they passed, but it was still a couple of hours before their mom would wake them. A soft conversation at the front door caused both boys to pause and blink up in surprise. _

_ Two figures stood in the doorway, one slight and slim and the other quite large. _

_ "Mom?" Edward mumbled, rubbing an eye. _

_ The quiet conversation ended abruptly, and Trisha looked over in surprise. "Boys," she said softly, placing a delicate hand over her lips. "What are you doing up so early?" _

_ "Alphonse said he had to go potty…" Edward said, slightly slurred. He smiled as his mother ruffled his hair. _

_ "And of course his big brother took care of him." _

_ Edward looked past his mother to the other figure in the doorway, up and up his large form to the familiar face of his father. Edward's breath hitched as cold golden eyes latched onto his, a thrill of alarm waking him entirely. _

Edward woke with a gasp, eyes snapping open in a rush of adrenaline. The rattling of steel wheels over a railroad track and the rocking of the hard bench registered quickly as he reoriented himself. His eyes fell to half-mast and he slumped back down into his palm with a displeased frown. That dream again...the memory of the last time he saw his bastard of a father.

"Brother," Alphonse said over the din. "We've almost reached Dublith."

Edward glanced up at his younger brother then did a double-take. Man, it would take him a while to get used to Alphonse's new face. It was less scary than the last one though, most definitely, and if he could get used to that, he could get used to this. It would just take time.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Edward slumped lower into his seat, feeling the nervous sweat cool on his brow. "Yeah...I was dreaming about _ him _ again…"

"Ah," Alphonse said, looking out of the window, the sun reflecting off his mask. Edward knew his younger brother never felt the same animosity towards their father as Edward did. Alphonse, unlike Edward, didn't blame Hoenheim for their mother's death. "It's been a long time since you dreamed about dad. What brought this on?"

Edward grumbled, not really feeling like talking about it. "I don't know, Al. Maybe I was having flashbacks because you're in a new body again. It reminded me of the past."

"Oh, I see. Heh, you're still not over that, are you?" Alphonse giggled a bit in jest, and Edward frowned, not really thinking it funny.

"If by 'over that', you mean having to go through transferring you to a new body again, then yeah, I'm not 'over that'!" He grimaced in remembered stress of what that put had him through. "Urgh, I think I've aged a whole ten years in the past couple of weeks…"

"Sorry, sorry," Alphonse said, bright. Edward couldn't help but smirk weakly back despite his annoyance. Alphonse was still ridiculously happy since regaining his mobility and the older boy couldn't begrudge him that. The new body might not be human, but the similarities between Edward's automail and Alphonse's own made it feel like they were just a little bit closer, even if it was only an illusion. It made Alphonse so giddy that he couldn't stop hugging Edward no matter how the smaller boy protested. Not that Edward actually minded all that much. Physical affection was not something that Alphonse had been able to indulge in since the tragedy and he was enjoying the ability to do so immensely. If he wanted to hug his older brother, then Edward would let him do it as much as he liked, pride be damned.

The train horn blared and they began to slow, the buildings of Dublith coming into view. A thrill of nerves fluttered in Edward's chest as they got closer to their destination and he gulped audibly. "Say, what are the chances that she moved somewhere else and we actually have to travel for another week to reach her?" Edward said hopefully.

"Not good," Alphonse responded, just as nervous. They’d left Rush Valley after Alphonse was proclaimed 'fit and ready to go' by all three automail mechanics, leaving Winry behind to stay on as Skylor's apprentice. Now they were on their way to see their teacher, hoping to find out more about the philosopher's stone. It was necessary, vital even that they got her opinion on the matter, as she was one of the most skilled alchemists in Amestris. The only problem with that was…

"Oooh, she's so gonna kill us," Edward moaned piteously into his knees, hands gripping his hair in distress.

Alphonse rubbed his arms vigorously, leather gloves rasping over the thick fabric of his armor. "I don't want to think about it! Alex said he told her what happened."

"What?" Edward shouted, suddenly quite terrified for his life. "She _knows?! _"

Both boys stared at each other, feeling identical levels of alarm. What they did when they tried to bring back their mother went against everything Izumi Curtis taught them when they were kids. And Izumi Curtis was _not _a forgiving woman.

Edward laughed nervously. "So, uh, Al, maybe we should, um, go see Orkan first."

"After everything Alex told us about him? What about the fact we have to tell him that Alex got _kidnapped_? Besides, we don't know where he lives."

"Oh, right…" Edward groaned. "Either way this is going to suck on so many levels. Maybe we can just leave him a letter or something…"

"You know we can't do that, brother."

Edward and Alphonse had debated about whether to bring the man into the loop about what happened to Alex, but both had eventually figured that they owed it to their missing brother, who had often spoken of Orkan with the utmost affection. To Alex, Orkan was the closest thing to a parent he had in this world, and Edward and Alphonse thought he would want the older man to know. Still, it wouldn't be easy, especially since they'd never met him.

The train came to a stop at the station as Edward mused and he stood with a resigned huff. "Come on, Al, let's get this over with."

Alphonse stood smoothly as well and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. He said with the utmost seriousness, "It was nice knowing you brother."

Edward nodded and responded just as darkly. "See you on the other side…"

A tense moment passed in silence before Alphonse couldn't take it anymore. He huffed a laugh and Edward rolled his eyes at their own dramatics. "Let's go. How bad could it be?"

* * *

"Okay," Edward gulped, visibly shaking. "I am seriously reconsidering trying to find Orkan for the rest of the day, how about you, Al?"

"Uh-huh," Alphonse whimpered beside him, the taller boy shaking just as badly. They’d decided to try Sig's butcher shop first, and Edward thought that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as they were dreading, but now faced with only a thin door in between them and their teacher he couldn't help but think that an incredibly foolish notion.

Images of relentless training, being beaten down repeatedly and stranded on an island for an entire _month _flashed in Edward and Alphonse's minds as they stood frozen at the doorway.

"Right, let's just go–" Edward tried to take a step back but froze in horror as the door opened of its own accord.

Both boys startled badly as the first thing they saw was a sharp knife covered in blood peak out into the sunlight. A second later they relaxed slightly as Sig squeezed out of the doorway with his massive frame.

"O-oh, hi Sig," Edward stuttered, relieved.

The large man loomed for a split second, looking quite intimidating with his bloodied apron and serious expression, but the illusion was vanquished when he smiled beneath his black mustache and said quietly, "Edward, wonderful to see you." He placed a large hand on Edward's head. "You've grown a little bit."

"Urgh," Edward could only groan under the strength of the meaty hand as it ruffled his hair beyond repair.

"Ah, Sig, it's me, Alphonse," Alphonse said, pointing to himself. Sig stared for a second and both boys shifted nervously. But the large man merely smiled and gave Alphonse the same treatment, disturbing his black hood.

"Al, you've _ really _ grown!"

"Heh," Alphonse giggled, and Edward threw Al a glance as he futilely tried to fix his hair. Unlike him, Alphonse actually enjoyed being treated like a kid.

"Izumi is resting inside," Sig said. "She's feeling much better today, so you can go on in."

"Better?" Edward mumbled. He exchanged a glance with Alphonse. "Is she doing alright?"

Izumi had a condition of which she would not speak to anyone that caused her to seize and bleed internally at a moment's notice. She’d been that way as far as the boys had known her and though it held her back only rarely, there were some days the illness incapacitated her in their youth. To hear that she was still doing poorly was not a good sign.

Sig smiled and nodded. He gestured towards the door. The large man always had been one of few words. Taking a bracing gulp, Edward stepped forward...only for the door to slam into his face with a resounding crack, knocking him back several feet.

"Gah!"

"Ah, Ed!"

"Well, well…" a hard voice came from within the house, and both boys flinched, Edward's eyes watering in pain. Izumi stepped out slowly, menacing presence larger than Sig's physical one could ever be. Each step hit the ground firmly, belying any supposed illness. "Hello, my stupid pupil. I've heard you've become one of the military's dogs."

Edward eeped and backed up several paces, scooting along the ground. "H-hello, teacher."

Alphonse flinched as Izumi's cold black gaze turned onto him. "Ah! T-teacher! You see, it's because–um–"

"Alphonse, is that you?" Izumi's face relaxed in surprise. "My, you've gotten so big!"

"Eh," Alphonse said, shoulders slumping in relief. "Ah, um, yeah. It's good to see you–" Alphonse yelped as Izumi grabbed his hand and flipped his larger form, slamming it into the ground without warning. Edward was forced to scramble back before he could get crushed by Alphonse’s flailing limbs.

"Hm," Izumi grunted over the two terrified boys. "You feel heavier than your typical suit of armor…"

Edward gulped and the boys exchanged scared glances. "So, you know what happened then…"

"Of course I know what happened!" Izumi shouted at the top of her lungs, fury in every line of her face. "I'm your teacher! Were you so stupid as to think I wouldn't find out–" A wracking cough shook her frame suddenly and the formidable woman doubled over with a pained grimace.

Sig placed a calm hand on his wife's shoulder as she rode out the cough, holding out a handkerchief for her to use. "Izumi, you shouldn't exert yourself. Maybe we should take this inside…"

Izumi's face relaxed into a beatific smile, a startling transformation for her beloved husband. "Oh, dear, thank you for always worrying about me!"

Alphonse and Edward watched in stunned silence at the display of affection from the usually intense woman before flinching as their teacher glared daggers at them. "You two. In." she smiled as Sig delicately guided her inside.

Once they were seated within the sitting room of the Curtis' home and Sig had graciously served all a hot drink, Izumi crossed her arms expectantly. "So, are you going to explain why _exactly _you abused my teachings and then joined the _state? _"

Edward looked away, avoiding her eyes and clenching his hands painfully tight in his lap. Alphonse remained silent, not sure what to say.

"Well, speak!" Izumi slammed her hand loudly on the coffee table between them and the boys cringed.

Edward frowned, still avoiding her eyes. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," The older alchemist barked. "I know that you committed the taboo. I know that you lost your arm and leg, and that you, Alphonse, lost your whole body. I know you stole someone from their own life. I know," She paused to take a deep breath before continuing coldly. "I know that if this is the result of my training you, the complete _ butchering _ of my teachings, then I should never have taken you in in the first place."

By the time she’d finished, both boys were bowed deeply in their seats in shame, refusing to look up. Alphonse's shoulders shook.

Sig placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. She shifted, looking from his sure face to her students'. Her expression softened and she eased back into her seat with a deep sigh. "It seems both of us are beyond help…"

Edward's head snapped up in surprise, and he clutched automail arm tightly. "Teacher...you saw it too?"

Izumi nodded slowly, hands limp in her lap. "For a long while, we believed we were barren. We wanted a child, but I couldn't–" she took a deep breath and Sig rubbed her shoulder in support. "I couldn't conceive. When we were finally able to, I ended up falling gravely ill." Her head bowed slightly and her eyes closed, recalling a painful memory. "Our child, our son...he never took a living breath in this world. And so I committed the taboo."

Edward and Alphonse sat silently, surprised and sad. Edward's eyes were aggrieved as he remembered clearly the terror of what they had gone through, the pain, and couldn't imagine wishing it upon his worst enemy. The Gate...that awful place and that awful apparition...she had seen it too. The Truth.

Izumi finally looked up, coming out of her musings. Her hand clenched over her stomach softly. "As a result, I lost parts of my organs to the transmutation and my baby...I only caused it to suffer further. I see now that I should have told you sooner so that you wouldn’t have had to make the same mistakes I did…" She looked to Edward in particular, eyes showing compassion she didn’t display often. "It must have been so awful…"

Edward's breath hitched in his chest. She blamed herself for his stupidity, he could see it in her eyes. And that was so, so wrong. "No, teacher," he said softly. "I did it to myself. There is no-one to blame but me."

"Ed," Alphonse tried, but his older brother merely placed a hand on his arm, silencing him. Edward's eyes never left Izumi's.

Eventually, the stalemate ended and Izumi nodded her head in acceptance.

"Teacher," Alphonse said after several moments in silence, voicing something he had been wondering for a long time. "Alex told you what happened, didn't he? Yet, you still helped him, even though he told us you refused to take on another student." Izumi was by no means a bad person and she would help where she could, but to commit to taking on another student so soon after learning her last ones had spurned her was not in her nature.

Izumi's eyes turned cold. "Alyssa," was all she said. Edward and Alphonse exchanged confused glances but she went on before they could ask. "That was to be the name of her child, had it been born before she was taken from it."

Dead silence hung in the room as Izumi's words settled heavily on the boys' shoulders. 

"So," Edward finally choked, "It's true." 

"Alexandria never told you, did she?" the woman continued mercilessly, and Edward clenched his eyes shut at the name that he had not heard spoken since Alex forcefully shut it away three long years ago. He bit his lip hard to try and force back the tears while Alphonse shook beside him. "I want you boys to understand exactly what it is you did to her. You cannot imagine the pain she has gone through, that same pain that I know well...but it was so much worse than that. You stole her body and life from her but you are also responsible for Alyssa's death, and you will spend the _ rest of your lives _ trying to make it right." Edward's tears finally fell as he opened his eyes wide at the condemning words, and the older alchemist looked between both boys sternly. "She came to me because for some foolish reason she believed that joining the military would somehow lead to her returning to what she was taken from. And as we both know Edward, there is no way to regain what was lost."

"No," Edward said, soft but firm, and looked his teacher dead in the eyes. "I don't believe that. There is a way to make this right, there has to be! I have to believe it..."

"Did you learn nothing!?" Izumi shouted. "If you won't learn from your own damn mistakes, then learn from mine! No-one comes back from the dead, no-one!"

"We know!" Alphonse finally spoke up and stood in an uncharacteristic display of defiance. Izumi held her ground, glaring. "We know that now. We may not be able to do anything for A-Alyssa–" he choked on the name, "But we have to believe that we can restore Alex to his original form, that _ we _ can be restored to our original forms–"

"Are you not listening to me? If Alyssa is dead then what makes you think Alexandria survived?!"

"We don't know that! Maybe Alexandria's body survived without a soul, maybe Alyssa isn't–"

Edward's strangled gasp interrupted the shouted argument, wide eyes unseeing and pupils barely pinpricks in a sea of gold.

"Brother?" Alphonse asked, frightened by the expression on his older brother's face.

"Al...at Lab Five...I think I know what Truth showed him," Edward whispered, voice wavering so that it was barely audible.

For several moments, only the ticking of the wall clock filled the room heard as Alphonse absorbed this news. "We don't know that…" he choked. Edward only shook his head, remembering the terrible expression Alex had worn when they returned from the Gate, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. Alphonse hadn't seen what Edward saw, as he was behind Alex when he fell, when he was taken. There was absolute certainty in Edward's mind that what he was right, and it tore at him.

"What have we done?" Alphonse whimpered, and he sat back down heavily in his chair. "What do we _do? _"

"Exactly what teacher said," Edward said, wiping his tears and placing a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. "We get him back, and then we spend the rest of our lives trying to make it right."

Izumi narrowed her eyes as she observed the two boys. Eventually, as it was clear neither could continue this conversation, she stood. "Now we will eat. Then," her eyes flickered sternly between both miserable expressions. "Then you will tell me exactly what happened."

Abruptly she left the room and entered the kitchen, slamming the door behind her with a sharp report. For a moment, she could only lean against the closed door and allow her emotions to simmer, not doing anything to calm them just yet. Her grief was over a decade old by now, and yet she could still feel it as if it was only yesterday, a wound that would never truly heal. 

But Izumi Curtis was never a woman to let any kind of pain, emotional or physical, stymy her for long. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to the kitchen to begin their meal. There was more of this story to be heard, and there would be no more stalling.

* * *

Three hours later, and Edward was so...very...tired. Alphonse sat beside him, long having fallen silent.

They’d moved to the sitting room and both had been given cups of hot cocoa that Sig had left before he took his leave. Both had sat untouched since they were given. A warm breeze filtered through the open window.

Izumi sat on the couch across from them, the black-haired woman massaging her temples. Edward told her everything, from the minute they left her tutelage and the events since. The transmutation, the Gate, the alchemy exam, Lab Five and the philosopher's stone...he held nothing back and recounting all of it left him so emotionally drained he could hardly believe he had shared a laugh with his brother only that morning.

"So…" Izumi finally spoke, monotone voice breaking the silence. "What are you going to do?"

Edward wiped a tired hand over his face. "The same as before. We’re going after the philosopher's stone."

"Why?" She asked flatly. "You know how they are created, have already _ made _ one, and decided they weren't worth the price."

"Several reasons," Edward sighed. "It's still our best shot at getting Alphonse's body back, for one."

"I thought we established that a body cannot be without its soul."

"Maybe not in our world, but," he glanced at Alphonse. "I actually saw Alphonse's body when I went to the Gate the second time."

Alphonse shifted before adding his own thoughts. "My situation is different from Alex's. Unlike us taking his soul from its body, my body _ and _ soul were taken by the Gate…"

"But I recalled his soul to our world." Edward finished.

"That still doesn't address the morality of using it." She glared, frowning harshly. "I will not allow you to, not while I draw breath."

Alphonse shook his head. "We won't. Not unless there is another way to create it."

Izumi nodded, accepting that for now. "And the other reasons?"

"The homunculi want alchemists to make the stone, and there are rumors that the Ishvalans have another way to create one," Alphonse said. "We believe that they have either planted the rumors themselves to lure alchemists, or will come to investigate."

"And you believe Alex will be with them," Izumi speculated.

"Maybe," Edward shrugged. "We have to try. Right now we have no other leads."

"Teacher, what do _ you _ know of the philosopher's stone?"

"Hm," Izumi leaned back and crossed her arms in thought. "I'm afraid it's never interested me before, so not much. There was a man who came through here some years ago asking about it…"

"Really?" Edward felt sudden excitement. "What was his name?"

"Hoenheim."

A quick intake of breath distracted her from her musings, and she took in the shocked visage of her pupil. "What is it?"

"Are you positive that was his name," Edward said softly, voice wavering.

"Yes, I'm quite sure." She said, brow furrowing.

"Then he's alive." Edward clenched his hands against his legs harshly with gritted teeth. Izumi looked to Alphonse in question.

"That's the name of our father."

"The one who ran out on you?" Alphonse nodded, and Izumi frowned consideringly. Now that she thought about it, the man did have the same peculiar golden eyes as both Edward and Alphonse…

"Did our father have anything to say about the stone," Alphonse continued while Edward remained silent, eyes lost in memory.

"Not much, I'm afraid. Just something about a lifelong dream coming true."

"Well that's just great," Edward said harshly. "At least he's happy. Now that we've established he's completely useless even when we never see him–" He cut himself off abruptly at Izumi's raised eyebrow. "Er...is there anything else you can think of, teacher?"

Izumi considered, tilting her head slightly. "Al."

"Yes?"

"You never saw the Truth, did you?"

"Ah, no. I'm afraid I don't remember anything that happened before I woke up like this. I'm not even sure what that means."

"You must have lost your memories from the shock." Izumi lifted a brow at Edward. "We need to get Alphonse's memories back. He lost his entire body to the Gate. Just think about what he must have seen."

Edward's eyes widened. "Oh yeah. We only lost parts of our bodies to pay for what we saw, but he lost everything. He must have seen way more than either of us."

"So," Alphonse said, a bit of optimism sneaking into his voice. "If we get my memories, we might learn how to create the philosopher's stone and get our bodies back?"

"It's possible. But…" Edward and Izumi exchanged concerned glances.

"What? Is it something bad?"

Izumi frowned deeply. "One cannot see the Truth and come out the other end unscathed. You are blessed to not have seen what we have."

"I will have nightmares of it for the rest of my life," Edward added with a shiver.

Alphonse stood and walked over to the window, considering the dark street outside. Edward's nightmares...the haunted looks he had seen pass over his brother's face ever since that night. Yes, it had changed him, but Alphonse had already changed as well. There was nothing he could see at this point that would ruin him further. And with all that was at stake, a few horrible memories were a price worth paying if they could return to normal. If they could save Alex.

"I don't care," he finally said, turning back to the room. "Any sacrifice is nothing to restore what we have lost." He would get his memories back, no matter what it took.

Izumi stood with a sigh. "Alright, then. I will help you find the answers you seek. For now, you two get some sleep. It's been a long day for all of us."

* * *

The light in the sitting room flicked off, throwing the street outside into darkness, and leaving only a dim streetlamp to light the empty road. Two figures stood leaning against the house next to the open window.

Orkan stood stonily against the wall behind him, ignoring his silent companion. When Izumi had demanded his presence a few hours ago, he had not expected to be accosted by her bear of a husband and told to stand in this spot all damn night, had not expected to hear what he heard. He scrubbed an agitated hand through his grayed hair.

"This," he growled, drawing Sig's stoic attention. "This shit is why I retired." It disgusted him, everything he had heard. He knew it was bad in this thrice accursed country, knew about the labs and the experiments and all that happened in the war, he was _there_, dammit! This was why he left, why he had nearly disowned his own son when he joined the military, and now even his prized pupil was caught up in all of this shit. Things were coming to a head, he could feel it, had been feeling it for _years_.

"I think," Sig said in that quiet way of his, "that we can no longer run from what's happening."

Orkan regarded one of his oldest friends with a glare. "You mean _ I _ can no longer run from what's happening." Sig only stared.

Orkan snorted in disgust and took a long draft of the bottle of tequila he had brought for Izumi, only to have to open it ten minutes into the conversation and guzzle it down. "Curse this damned country. Curse the military. Curse _ alchemists _!" He dropped the half-empty bottle and felt no satisfaction when it shattered against the cobblestone.

Without another word to his companion, the inebriated man stumbled down the street, anger in every moment. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but Sig was right. There was no more running. It was high time he paid his son a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know what's coming next...or do you? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hughes meets someone he did not expect and Alex realizes something he should have a long time ago. 
> 
> Mustang just wants things to make sense again.

Barret paused in the open doorway of Hughes' office, leaning heavily against the doorframe to steady himself. 

The only other occupant of the room leaned back with a weary sigh, the bespectacled man pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. A fan creaked slowly over his messy desk and the fluorescent lights paled Hughes’ skin, making him look drawn.

He looked as tired as Barret felt.

Both officers had been sequestered in this office for nearly twenty-four hours and had been doing shifts like that since their mutual friend tragically disappeared. Still, they had had no luck getting close to the edge of...whatever it is they were trying to find. Conspiracy theories swirled around Barret's mind like a boiling pot of water, but they continued to get ever more unlikely as fatigue dragged him past the point of coherency. Dreams were blending with reality, the wilder thoughts unhindered by supposed fact and criticism the longer the man went without sleep. It was a state that boosted creativity and might aid them in the long run, especially considering the outlandish nature of their enemies, but the fact was that neither man volunteered for such a grind, the forced march’s unpleasant effects outweighing the benefits the longer the answers they sought remained out of reach. It was likely that anything they came up with in such a state would make little sense to them later. And yet, they couldn’t stop, not with so much at stake.

The younger man sighed and shrugged into the room, placing a watered-down cup of coffee on the desk of his superior before cradling the other warm container between his chilled fingers. With a groan, the head investigator forced his strained eyes to focus on Barret.

“Did you find it?”

It took Barret an embarrassingly long time to register what Hughes said. “Oh. No, I must have left it at the barracks.” It was shameful, but Barret had been so out of it that he’d gone and left his firearm somewhere, along with his wallet. He hadn’t left Central Command in over two days, however, so he wasn’t terribly concerned. He just needed some _ sleep_, the world blurring around him every few minutes. If he could just get that, he wouldn’t be so absent-minded as to lose things. 

Hughes rolled his eyes at Barret's negligence, though he couldn’t say he was in much better a state these days. He lazily waved a newspaper he’d been examining on his desk for the last half hour. "Seen today's paper?"

Barret grunted, not even bothering to look at the map of Amestris plastered on the front page with a headline that read 'Unrest On All Borders'. He had scoured the article himself hours ago but wasn't finding the speculation anything more than vaguely interesting, much to his continued frustration. "It's about the uprising in Lior. Apparently it's in response to that sham religion the Elrics uncovered over a year ago. It seems the people finally realized they were being manipulated." Although, he thought 'unrest' was quite the understatement. If the things they had been hearing were in any way accurate, it was a bloodbath out there. Not that you would find that sort of information in a public newspaper. The government’s grip on the media was too strict for such gossip.

"Yeah…" Hughes muttered, voice rough with exhaustion. "First Ishval and now Lior. The East is a real hotbed this past decade, isn't it? The bodies just keep piling up."

"It isn't just there though," Barret sighed. He placed a finger against the edge of the map and drew it across Amestris’ rounded border, a sweeping gesture over the image that encompassed the vast stretch of land he referred to. "There has been activity all along the western and southern border as well lately. Most recently, there’s been rumblings about the Ishvalan refugee camps south of Dublith, although the rumors remain just that for the time being." 

Hughes blinked blurrily as Barret pulled away, his finger leaving an annoying afterimage. He moved to rub behind his glasses, but before his fingers even touched the bridge of his nose Hughes froze, hand slowly dropping away from widening eyes. For several seconds he stared blankly at the map, pulse jumping visibly on his neck.

"Sir?" Barret intoned, leaning forward to take in his suddenly silent companion's expression. Hughes startled and his eyes locked on Barret's own. In an instant, the lieutenant took in every detail, from Hughes' dilated pupils to his racing pulse to the sweat trickling down a painfully clenched jaw. "What did you see?" Barret demanded immediately, taking Hughes’ arm in a tight grip.

When Hughes did not immediately respond, Barret looked back at the article, but Hughes snatched it up and threw it on the ground before he could examine it further. "Hughes, what the hell?" Barret’s words were choked off as the older man got to his feet and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into what would soon be an impressive bruise.

"Listen to me," Hughes said, hushed, and Barret paused, never having heard such a serious voice from his usually cheerful boss. "Go home, lieutenant, and don't talk to anyone. You were never here."

"What–Hughes–" Barret said, alarm trickling down his spine.

"Don't." Hughes straightened and let go of his subordinate with a harsh shove, pushing him towards the door. "I don't need you anymore. Get out."

Barret stumbled, bewildered. He began to ask what the hell Hughes was going on about, but swallowed his tongue and really _looked_ at him.

He took in the shake of Hughes’ hands, the rigidness of his shoulders and the way his fingers twitched to release the weapons he kept concealed beneath his sleeves. Barret couldn’t help but think that whatever Hughes feared, no amount of hidden knives and clever words was going to repel them.

"Do I need to tell you again, soldier?" Hughes barked, and Barret straightened to attention beneath the obvious command.

"No, sir."

"Good." The lieutenant colonel brushed passed him, but Barret grabbed his arm before he could leave.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Maes."

Hughes glared, but at the younger man's persistence, his stern expression faltered. He placed his sweating palm over Barret's hand and gripped it tightly. "So do I, kid. So do I."

Then Hughes was gone. Barret stared blankly at the abandoned office, cold cup of coffee completely forgotten and the pages of the newspaper strewn across the floor. He clenched the hand still cooling with the slick evidence of Hughes' fear and slowly picked up the scattered papers. With one last frown at the stubbornly answerless front page that had spooked his friend so, Barret threw it into the fire and walked away. Whatever was going on, he was sure he would find out in the worst possible way.

* * *

Hughes strode quickly down the hall, pulse racing. He glanced left and right discreetly before sliding into the comforting darkness of the records room, out of sight. Wasting no time, a table was cleared and an atlas spread over it, just barely visible in the dim light of the streetlamps outside.

He pulled out a marker and began scribbling furiously, beads of sweat trickling down his jaw. Lior, all these uprisings, the philosopher's stone, lab five, the senseless slaughtering of the Ishvalan people...human sacrifices.

Human _sacrifices. _

Hughes was so absorbed in his discovery that he failed to hear the soft click of heels against the stone or the door click shut until it was much, much too late.

"Well, hello, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," a silky woman’s voice drifted through the shadows.

Startled, Hughes stumbled back with a loud curse. He took in every detail with a flick of his eyes, heart hammering against his rib cage as if determined to jump out of it. A beautiful woman wreathed in black stood between him and the only way out of this room. "Although, hello isn't really the word I'm looking for…" Blood red lips curled into a seductive smile.

"That's an interesting tattoo you have there," he said, voice surprisingly steady considering how dry his mouth had gone. He grinned bravely at the creature and already knew what she was from the brand on her chest, the very same image Edward had drawn for him. "After all of the hyping those boys have done about you, I thought you'd be...taller."

Those bowed lips turned in a fierce frown and Hughes wasn't quite sure whether he should be proud of that or curse his ever-present need to laugh in the face of certain death. Her hand came up beside her face and his eyes widened in disbelief as her fingers extended, becoming impossibly long and sharp. "Careful, I'm starting to reconsider letting you live, if only for the moment."

Hughes seriously doubted that was an option in the first place, so as she stalked forward, he threw himself back, reaching for the small of his back.

With a tinkling laugh, she attacked. Her claws extended with a crackling snap and tore through his shoulder, uniform and flesh alike. Terrible agony to nearly blinded him with hot flashes of white, but Hughes was just as fast. With a flick of his wrist, three knives flew end over end in quick succession, one into her stomach, another into her sternum, and the last sinking with a sick crunch in between her eyes.

Her claws immediately retracted, leaving a bloody hole in his shoulder to leak sluggishly down his chest and back, staining his uniform black. The creature collapsed gracelessly to the floor. Hughes struggled for air, body shaking with adrenaline. Breathe. Just breathe. He had to get out, had to get out _now_.

Making sure his enemy was good and dead, Hughes ignored the pain and tore the map out of the atlas, crumpling it into a ball and shoving it into his coat. Roy. Had to reach Roy.

Hughes burst out of the room and managed to claw his way down the hall, intending to find a secure line to Roy's home. A dismayed thought swayed his step however and he immediately about-faced. No. If what he believed was true then that meant no line was safe.

He headed for the car lot, staggering often while blood flowed heavily from his wound. The night blurred in and out of focus as the journey took much too long. He cursed himself repeatedly for having sent Barret away, thinking himself safe in the halls of Command. How could he have been so foolish, when he had suspected, _ knew_, the military was involved?

Finally, he made it out of the doors, letting them swing shut on their own before stumbling out into the empty lot nearly devoid of cars in the early morning hours. Falling heavily against his own military issued vehicle, he fumbled for his keys with numbed fingers. Several pictures tumbled out of his pocket in his haste and he cursed.

A click from behind froze his blood, stilling his hands in their task. It was a sound no soldier wouldn't recognize, one he had heard many, many times.

"Don't move, sir," a cool voice echoed in the quiet night, and Hughes' eyes widened in utter disbelief as he recognized it from the very last person he would have expected.

No. It was impossible. He _trusted _this man, trusted him with the most delicate missions, with his _family_. This couldn’t be real. Hughes turned his head slowly and stared past the barrel of a gun to eyes, dark blue and so very familiar, that he had seen nearly every day for the past few years. For a split, unfathomable second, Hughes thought he must be wrong and had been all this time...but no. Whoever this was, they had made a grave error. Hughes bared his teeth in a grin, though his shaking no doubt telegraphed his fear. "Who the hell are you, bastard?"

The taunting smile pulled at the corner of the imposter’s lips, unnaturally expressive, and Hughes couldn't help but shudder at the maliciousness there. "Sir, you've lost too much blood. It's me, Second Lieutenant Barret Orkan…"

"Bullshit," the beleaguered man spat. "I can count on one hand the number of times Barret has smiled at me, and he sure as hell never looked like _ that." _ Hughes slowly grabbed the throwing knife in his front pocket, tensing his shoulders for when he would get his chance. He had to get away, he just had to...

The grin widened, turning Barret’s stoic visage into one of blatant malice. "Aww," he said, voice rising in pitch, and Hughes' breath hitched. "There's always something." He lifted his hand and swiped beneath his dark lashes. Sparks flashed, causing the shadows to flicker haphazardly, and then all expression was gone, the soldier’s face mask-like. "There, now how do I look?"

Hughes gasped. "Homunculus…Edward told me about you..." And he hadn’t heeded his warning. How could he? It had been too fantastical to contemplate. Now he regretted that negligence and couldn’t help thinking fearfully how much this spy could _know_, wearing the faces of others. He should have been more careful, should have–but it didn't occur to him all this time. The most important things never do.

"Things didn't have to go this way, Hughes," the shapeshifter spoke over him, careless. Hughes turned back to the front, pressing against the cool door of the car in disbelief.

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening…"

"We could have completely avoided this mess if you had just kept your nose clean, but here we are…" Hughes felt the gun press to the back of his head and held back a flinch. 

"Aw, come on," he tried for casual despite the rushing in his ears. "Have a heart. I have a wife and kids to go home to." The gun striking the back of his head tore a grunt of pain from his chest. His eyes watered from the force of it, the hand clutching his weapon spasming. It was now or never…

"Envy!"

Just as Hughes was about to whip his knife around and plant it in this unnatural creature's smug face, an achingly familiar voice stayed his hand and stopped his heart.

A figure made itself known as two red pinpricks in the dark, the eyes of a predator. A young man, dressed in the same black as his counterparts, stepped into the golden streetlight that illuminated this drama, emerging like a shadow, incorporeal. 

Memories and facts assaulted Hughes in rapid succession as he tried to reconcile what his eyes were telling him with what he knew to be true, fatigue making him all the more sure that all of this had to be some horrible nightmare.

"Alex," he croaked, some inner voice screaming in denial. It couldn’t _be_. His eyes flickered in between the young man he thought he knew so well and the shapeshifting stranger at his back. Was it another trick? That _man _walking towards him looked so strikingly familiar, but changed as if years had passed since he'd seen him. It just didn't add up, nothing was making sense...

Alex ignored him and glared at 'Envy' with loathing, a look Hughes can say with certainty he had never seen on the young man’s fair face. "Back off, tramp. I told you, this one's mine."

Any hope that Hughes might have felt at his friend's inexplicable arrival suffered a swift death at the words. So...so he had joined their side. Hughes closed his eyes in regret before he smothered the emotions he couldn't afford to feel at the moment. He didn't know what had happened or what Alex had gone through, but it looked like they were too late to save him…

Alex's scowl deepened and Envy dropped the gun on the ground with a dramatic huff. "Oh, please, lighten up! I was just holding him for you, that's all."

The young man's eyes narrowed and Envy rolled his. "Fine, fine, he's all yours. But Empathy," in a startling flash Envy transformed into another man, this one a slim and unfamiliar, banishing the phantom of Hughes’ subordinate. "Don't screw this up, brat, or you’ll regret it."

Threat delivered, the homunculus strode to the edge of the darkness and leaned against a low wall, watching.

Hughes clenched his hand firmly around his knife as he slowly backed away from the vehicle to face the new threat. Alex's familiar–and yet terribly _alien _–eyes turned in his direction.

At first, Hughes could swear that his cold expression was seamless, but as Alex turned away from the other homunculus and towards his former friend, it crumpled. In quick succession, so fast that the investigator could hardly make them out, a myriad of pain and sorrow swirled within. In that sliver of a moment, Alex took in Hughes' features as if they were the most precious thing he had ever seen or would see again. Hughes held back a gasp of shock, hope forming like a small seed in his heart.

It was gone barely a second later, so quickly that if the older man didn't trust his senses so acutely he would have thought he’d imagined it.

"Alex," he said again, but the blond merely shook his head, eyes freezing over.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Hughes. Alex is dead." 

"I don't believe that," Hughes whispered. _ Just what has happened to you? _

But Hughes could almost see as the young man’s resolve strengthened until no amount of familiarity or past love would stop him from completing his mission. 

"I'm sorry I have to do this…" Alex–no, _ Empathy _–said just as quietly.

"Then don't!" Hughes exclaimed, bringing a weapon to bear while reaching for several more. "What happened to you, Alex? Why are you–"

Hughes choked as a hand mercilessly closed around his neck, faster than he could have possibly reacted. Almost as quickly, all of the knives in Hughes' possession were imbedded in Empathy's chest and Hughes could only panic as the former Elric gasped and doubled over. Before the older man could comprehend what he just did, _ who _ he just stabbed, Empathy's grip tightened. Slowly, the young man straightened, pain apparent in his grimace while he pulled them out one by one, shuddering and gasping as they slipped sickeningly from his broken skin. Hughes watched on with bulging eyes, unable to draw a single breath.

"I'm sorry," Empathy whispered as the last knife hit the ground with a wet clatter. His wounds closed in flickering light but the agony in his expression did not. Regret. Sorrow. Longing. In that single second of vulnerability, Hughes saw the Alex he once knew, the one who loved unconditionally.

The one who had saved Nina's life.

But it didn't matter. Empathy’s grip never wavered. 

Hughes closed his eyes, hands grasping futilely and tears slipping down his frigid cheeks. As the world faded, he hoped that his little girls could forgive him, and that Gracia would raise them alright long after he had gone. And Nina...he hoped that she never encountered the remnants of the young man she once adored. With a pang, he remembered his best friend and despaired that he couldn't warn him about what was coming. _ Roy...I wish I could’ve helped you till the very end… _

The last thing Hughes saw before his vision went black was Empathy's tormented eyes. Hughes' heart broke at the look of loss. What form of torture had this young man endured to make him turn on his friends and family? It must have utterly broken him, because Hughes _ knew _ him, knew how much family meant to Alex. Now it appeared that he would destroy all he loved with his own hands.

_ I'm so sorry_, Hughes thought. _ I should have reached you sooner. _.. 

In his last moments, he slipped something beneath Empathy's shirt, hoping beyond hope that he was right. Then, with the dregs of his remaining strength, Hughes brought his hand up to the boy’s cheek softly, as if handling one of his beloved girls. He focused through the pain mouthed the words, knowing that even if Empathy never forgave himself, he needed to hear this. _ I forgive you_. Maybe, if Hughes couldn’t reach him, someone else, someone Alex loved more, could. With his last moments, Hughes could only hope.

Hughes closed his eyes for the last time…

  
  
  
  


Air, blessed and agonizingly cold burst into the barely conscious man's lungs as he was released and slammed back into his car. Hughes took strangled, hacking gulps of oxygen, vision spinning in utter confusion.

An enraged shout burst its way into his ears past strained gasps. "What the hell are you doing, brat! If you think–"

"Shut up, Envy. Don't get your panties in a twist. I have a better idea." Empathy’s words scalded but as Hughes looked up into his eyes, he could only see horror reflected as Empathy realized what he’d almost done. Hope surged within the gasping man, but Empathy shook his head minutely, staying any gratitude Hughes might have offered. 

Envy walked swiftly towards them, growl building in his chest like a wild animal.

"Why you little–"

"I said," Empathy's voice lowered in an answering snarl, any trace of emotion gone from his expression when he turned to face his fellow homunculus. "Shut up."

Both homunculi looked ready to pounce on each other, low growls reverberating through the air as if it were two wildcats, not men, who stood in the lot. Hughes couldn’t help the primal shiver of fear that worked its way down his spine, a rabbit in the fox’s hungry gaze.

Envy scoffed and leaned back with a grin moments later, however, breaking the tension slightly. Cautiously, Empathy eased back. "Fine, but you get to be the one to tell Lust that you failed, and you _ know _ she never makes threats lightly."

The blond visibly paled and his throat jumped in a gulp, but he didn't back down. Instead, a strained smile pushed up his lips. "Yeah, yeah, go cry to mommy. But if you do, you might miss something interesting that only Lust has gotten to see. That's not very fair, is it? She wanted to keep it her little secret after all, and she would be oh, so upset if I showed you..."

"Oh?" The shapeshifter's face lit up with greed and cackled, amused. "You’re _learning, _ aren't you? Alright, let's see it then. What do you have in mind, my devious friend?"

Hughes struggled to keep his eyes open as he tried to stem the freely bleeding wound in his shoulder. He watched the byplay closely, hoping they would be distracted long enough for him to figure something out, but found himself in both homunculi's unsettling regard all too soon. He looked up uncertainly into Empathy's face but there was no longer any recognition there.

"Watch this," Empathy said with a small smile. He crouched down, nearly in Hughes' lap, and Hughes jerked back in surprise. With impossibly strong hands, Empathy grabbed the retreating man's face and pressed their foreheads together.

Hughes gasped, flinching as Empathy pressed against him, but the homunculus' impossibly strong hands held him still, frigid and immovable. Before Hughes could think to pull out another knife, knowing it was futile but still willing to try, Empathy's voice cut through his panic with a gentle whisper.

"I'm sorry," Alex mumbled only loud enough for him to hear, barely moving his jaw as the other homunculus watched on with an impatient frown. "I will return it, I promise."

Hughes' eyes went wide as red sparks jumped between them and burned through him like electricity, a tug pulling deep within his core. Then, _ agony _as something snapped away.

Empathy pulled back and stood, giving Envy a clear view of the human's face. The homunculus whistled low, impressed.

"Whoa, kid, what did you _ do _?"

The spectacled man stared wide-eyed into the night, clenching his jaw so tightly tendons stood out starkly against his neck as his breaths came in asthmatic gasps, positively _terrified_. Envy was sure he hadn't seen such a delicious fear on any one person's face before...well, with a few exceptions, but who's counting?

Empathy stared blankly at his victim, wrapping his arms around himself as if holding a child. "I stole his courage." He turned away, walking into the darkness. "That one won't be a problem anymore."

Envy raised a brow. He glanced doubtfully at the man trembling on the ground but shrugged at the satisfying panic in his eyes, figuring that if Empathy succeeded, then Envy had just gotten a one-up on Lust _and _got to see something entertaining in this increasingly dull existence. If not, well, that plucky brat would get his. Win-win, really. 

An animalistic howl of purified fear had Empathy flinching and bursting into a run, fleeing from what he’d done. Envy scoffed, lip curling in disgust. No matter how cold the kid tried to be, he’d clearly just ruined on of his friends, clearly _cared_. It would be his undoing.

Envy couldn’t _wait _to see him burn.

Voices of alarm began to fill the night at the racket and Envy took his leave. He stepped out of the light as soldiers filled the parking lot, exclamations of disbelief drowned out in the wake of Hughes’ continued screams. 

* * *

Mustang will remember the night he got the call for the rest of his life.

After all, it is hard to forget the moment that half of your world comes collapsing down around you because the pillar, the one thing holding you above the ground, falls into a ruined heap beneath your feet.

It was an average night, he supposed. He had just gotten off of work–finally– and had headed home for a well-deserved rest. The investigation with Scar had gotten him nowhere, the man once again vanishing without a trace back into the ether. Equally as fruitless was the lead on his wayward friend, the trail going as cold as the facade Roy wore in the thick of the Game. After Jäger disappeared into the dark tunnels beneath Central, Roy attempted to track him, but likewise, he was lost into the winding network beneath the city that would take months to traverse, some of it so old it had passed out of record.

Needless to say, Roy was not having a very good day. And it would only get so, so much worse.

Hughes. He'd barely seen the man in weeks, hectic as their schedules were. As Roy battled the front lines of politics with fervor, Hughes had been there as always, supporting him in the shadows. If Hawkeye was Roy's right hand, then Hughes had ever been his left, taking care of the dirty work, tracking down the leads that would exalt him into the position of power he was destined for. Roy's dream and the ultimate betterment of this entire country was all because of a few carefully chosen words from his best friend, the man solely responsible for setting the young officer on his path all those years ago. Maes' belief in Roy was the only thing that had kept him going in those early days. Through the drunken nights, the narcotics and the forbidden research and the gun in his hand; Hughes had seen it all and saved Roy from himself to the very last. Roy owed him everything.

And now…Now he could do absolutely nothing but watch in silence as his friend suffered.

Roy leaned heavily against the glass supporting him as his knees went weak from shock, a hand braced against the cool surface the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor. 

Riza's frantic call in the middle of the night had wrenched the man from his sleep with a jolt of adrenaline. There were very few people who had the number to his personal line and those people knew never to contact him unless it was an emergency. So Roy forced himself awake, knowing that if he ignored this call he would no doubt regret it.

That and...there was one other who he dearly hoped to hear from again. If there was any chance he may contact him...well, Roy wasn't going to miss it.

"Mustang speaking."

The second he heard the voice on the other end of the line, Roy's weariness disappeared in a flash of alarm. "Roy…" Riza's voice filtered through the phone, urgent and laden with emotion. "You need to get to command hospital immediately."

"Riza, what–"

"Please, sir, we don't have time. I have to follow them." Frantic shouting from the background interrupted her and Roy strained his ears to listen. There was a struggle, someone shouting, then a sharp order for sedatives yelled above the din. "I have to go. Building seven, room ninety-three. Mustang...It's Hughes."

He hadn't even bothered to dress. Now he stood, legs weak, against the observation glass of Hughes' hospital room. Until that moment, Roy didn't think he ever truly understood how much the man meant to him until Hughes lay deathly pale against the white sheets, shirtless and bandaged, the gauze stained with deep crimson. But worse than that were the restraints holding him down as doctors bustled about, his body covered in the abuse of his own struggles against those trying to help.

A doctor stood beside Roy now, her voice buzzing in his ear with an update on his best friend's condition. They had found him in the parking lot, right at the goddamned _front door_, bleeding heavily from a stab wound in his shoulder, delirious and terrified. Repeated attempts to ask him what happened fell on deaf ears as Hughes screamed until his voice box ruptured. He had to be drugged and then restrained before they could treat him. He lay docile against the white sheets now, but only because he was heavily sedated. His eyes were blank, staring into nothing beneath half-mast lids, and yet they still flickered back and forth restlessly, seeking some unseen enemy.

"Sir," Riza said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Roy flinched, but could not tear his eyes away from the scene. "Sir, they said he will live." The man was finally able to look towards her, the words barely reaching his ears. Belatedly, he realized that the doctor had gone. He hadn't noticed, too busy reeling from the shock of the world nearly ending. Hawkeye averted her eyes respectfully, giving him a moment to compose himself. "It was touch and go for a while there. His heart nearly gave out from the panic. They say his blood pressure was off the charts when they found him, but the sedatives have calmed him enough to rest."

"What the hell happened?" Roy croaked. He may not be able to hear anyone else, but Hawkeye had always been his voice of reason. If anyone could make the world make sense again, it was her, her hand a tether in the madness. 

Riza pursed her thin lips, looking into his face carefully. "We aren't sure. Investigations is scouring the area now. They found–" The woman cut herself off, flicking her eyes back and forth through the hall. Personnel bustled this way and that, the night shift of the hospital in a tizzy because of the recent drama. Though no one had the energy or wherewithal to pay attention to the two officers, it was only a matter of time before their conversation would draw attention. Riza took in the shock in the pinch of her commanding officer's jaw and gently took him by the arm. "Not here," she said gently. 

Through his haze, Roy nodded. His head began to clear slightly, finally allowing his surroundings to register. He straightened, gently brushing aside Riza's comforting hand. With as much dignity as a man could muster in sweatpants and a loose lounge shirt, he turned on his heels and strode from the hallway, Riza matching his pace, a comforting ritual in the earthquake beneath his feet. "Call the others. We meet in my office in thirty."

"Yes, sir."

The hall split and Riza took her leave, striding to his left and out of sight. Roy didn't notice, flickering vision blocking out all else as the dregs of adrenaline coursed through him. His pace increased until he was almost jogging through the halls toward his office. What the hell? _ What the hell? _ He couldn't process anything other than the sight of his friend's face fixed in terror at something he saw, comatose and restrained. He knew that he would never get that image out of his head for as long as he lived. He didn't know what had caused it but he would. Find. _ Out. _

He made it all the way to his office complex's door and stopped short in front of the closed–and locked–wood. He jiggled the handle once, twice, and then could only clench his useless hand, remembering belatedly that his keys were still in his discarded uniform pants at the foot of his couch. Frustration and anger rose in him like too much air crowding his chest as his hand raised to snap and incinerate the impertinent piece of wood. Instead, he exhaled gustily and slumped against the doors. He took one deep breath and then another, trying to calm his racing heart. This was not the time to lose it. Anyone could be watching and he needed to get a grip.

"Calm down. He's still alive…"

A slight noise from behind alerted Roy that he was not alone and he stiffened. Immediately his mind jumped to the worst conclusion and he berated himself for a fool. Whoever had attacked Hughes could still be here, and here he was running through the empty–but waking– halls of command without any protection, without even his gloves!

...Good, Roy thought, a fit of vicious anger scorching through him like one of his flames. He almost hoped that when he turned around he would come face to face with the attacker just for the chance to _tear them apart. _

Abruptly, Roy turned, preparing himself to the worst with fingers tensed in anticipation to snap, even if there were no ignition materials to give him the friction he needed.

The jangle of keys gave Mustang pause as he registered the taciturn man who offered them. Slowly, Mustang’s shoulders relaxed and he let out an aggravated sigh. "Second Lieutenant Barret," he acknowledged, taking the key that would allow him into his office.

"Sir," Barret responded and Mustang studied his face, wondering if he knew what had happened. But one look into his drawn eyes was all Mustang needed to answer that question.

"You–" 

“Please. We don’t have a lot of time and I don’t know who might be watching.”

Roy fell silent, acquiescing. He forced the slightly trembling key into the office door and shoved it open, gesturing sharply for the younger man to get inside. Without further invitation, Barret rigidly strode into the workspace, past the paper flooded desks and into the sanctum of the colonel's inner office. Mustang followed, eyes narrowing as his best friend's protégé began deliberately sweeping his office for bugs. With each second that passed while Barret tore his office apart, the knot in the colonel's chest synched tighter.

"What do you know?" Mustang finally snapped after Barret ran his hand under the lip of his desk for the fifth time. There was nothing there; Hughes had checked his office for bugs just the previous day. 

Roy didn't know this man particularly well, as Hughes hoarded his agents jealously and rarely lent them to other departments, but they’d had enough contact in the past few years to recognize that the tense line in Barret’s shoulders and erratic behavior was not like him.

With an imperceptible breath, Barret straightened. In contrast to Roy's guarded slump against the corner of his desk, he stood stock-still and straight, vibrating with energy. "I needed to report to you before you heard anything else." Those words hung in the air for several heavy moments and Mustang almost demanded answers before considering the man's earnest frown. Even as Barret hadn't said anything yet, his manner spoke volumes. "In several hours, you will receive news that the weapon of a suspect has been found on the premises of Hughes' attack. It will belong to me."

Roy considered this for several seconds, entertaining the idea that the man was confessing to the crime before dismissing it as unlikely. "Scapegoat," Mustang stated instead, and Barret confirmed as if it had been a question. It hadn’t been. It was clear that Hughes had gotten close to something he shouldn’t have and that this was no random attack. He’d been _silenced, _and someone from within was trying to cover it up by framing his subordinate.

"I will be arrested as soon as they identify the serial number." Barret swallowed. "It gets worse, sir," he said quietly. 

"When does it not?" Mustang nodded for him to continue.

Barret filled him in on the investigation they had been in the middle of, briefing Mustang on their discoveries, most of which Roy knew of, but some he didn't. Finally, he explained the article that spooked Hughes into throwing Barret out of the investigation. Mustang's fingers twitched to pull the previous day's paper from his wastebasket and scour the article himself but knew that if Barret didn't know what it meant then Roy would have little luck. 

"He had several minutes lead on me," Barret said solemnly. "I came across a trail of blood and followed it into the records room. There were signs of a violent struggle, blood that couldn’t be Hughes' alone, a map of Amestris torn from its volume..."

Mustang swallowed past the bile rising in his throat. "He was trying to leave us a message," he realized, and Barret nodded.

"I followed his trail to the communications room, then towards the parking lot." Barret's voice became clipped, devoid of inflection as he shied from some emotion. "That's where I found him. He was not alone."

"Who?" Mustang barked, resisting the urge to jump up and shake the answers out of the infuriating man. "What did they do to him?"

"I don't know what they did," Barret said slowly, brows pinching in confusion. "I turned the corner and I saw _ myself, _ but it _ wasn’t _ me, and it had my gun that had gone missing earlier today.” He took a deep breath, collecting himself, though it did little to steady his voice. “That... _ thing, _it has the ability to change forms with some kind of alchemy and matches the reports Edward Elric gave of one of the homunculi from lab five.”

Roy’s pulse quickened. The homunculi were involved in this? That did not bode well, but it confirmed his suspicions that they were somehow involved with the military. How deeply they were entrenched, however, remained to be seen, although Roy could only dread that it went deeper than any of them had believed. Barret’s eyes darkened with grim anger, clearly not finished. "What is it, lieutenant?" Roy didn’t think that this could get much worse.

He was wrong.

"Sir, the other person who was there, the one who did something to Hughes," the other man responded darkly, “it was Alex Elric.”

Roy’s breath halted. The words echoed into the sudden ringing in his ears, and he could see that Barret had continued talking, but he couldn't hear him while the treacherous name sunk in. At first, he was sure he had heard wrong because that couldn't be. It was preposterous. Alex, who had visited Roy’s home and trusted Roy with his past, listened to Roy’s sins without condemnation, who regarded Hughes' family as his own; how could he betray Hughes, betray his own brothers?

Betray Roy?

Barret stopped talking when it was apparent he was being ignored and watched Mustang carefully, but the older man was trapped behind the maelstrom of disbelief, couldn't pay attention to him for the burn of Alex’s crumpled entreaty in his jacket pocket. The boy had gone missing, shaken all of them at his loss, only to come back and stab Roy through the heart by harming one of the only other people Roy cared about more? It...it was–

"Impossible," Roy whispered. He had to have been coerced, threatened, _ something _to do...this. Mustang could not bring himself to entertain the possibility that they had all been betrayed. "What of Hughes' message?" he asked, partly to change the subject and partly because whatever Hughes had found, he needed to know. Something had spooked Hughes, something so big it had forced the homunculi to retaliate. He wanted so badly to talk to his best friend, to demand he tell him what happened, but the one person who knew the entire story was so heavily damaged he had to be strapped down to a table so he wouldn't hurt himself. No...whatever it was, Hughes would not be able to help him. Not this time.

"There was nothing on his person except his photos."

Mustang closed his eyes and resisted the urge to curl onto the floor and pretend none of this was happening. Instead, he merely let out a long exhale and forced his mind into gear. "How many people knew of Hughes' investigation?"

"Only you and I knew, sir."

"Good. Help me find and store as much as we can in a safe place. I will send word to one of my associates and they will smuggle you from the city. You should stay hidden until we can clear your name." Mustang was already sinking into his own thoughts, making plans. He needed to push this betrayal aside and shove it deep down, needed to compartmentalize. They had little time, but if they could just–

Barret did not move to follow his orders, and Mustang looked up with a frown. "With all due respect, sir, I refuse." He did not back down from Mustang's scowl and returned it with his own.

"We were at a breakthrough," Barret continued quietly. "I know I can see what he saw. Just give me time."

Mustang was already shaking his head. "Hughes did not want you involved."

"Hughes isn't here!" The suddenness of his shout startled them both, but Barret pressed on in a more subdued tone, reigning himself in. "Even if you cut me out, I will still investigate this. There is no one more qualified in investigations that Hughes trusted more than myself. You need me." Roy would have bristled at such arrogance were it not for the complete lack of hubris in Barret's voice. He was only stating the truth, after all.

"If you are found guilty for assaulting a superior officer, you could face the firing wall," Roy warned. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if I were already marked for death, sir. Besides, Alex was my family too. I don't know what drove him to do what he did, but I _ will _ find out."

Several moments passed in silence as Roy considered, appraising the younger man. He had seen more emotion on the soldier's face this one night than he had in the several years they had been acquainted, and could not detect any deceit. Perhaps Barret was right. Without Hughes, Roy's information network was crippled, and while he had other avenues to obtain news, he knew it would still be a challenge without him. It was a risk...but Hughes had trusted Barret, and so Roy would also.

The colonel shoved himself up from the desk and stood straight. "Go, then. Hide your research and go about your business normally. They’ll come for you sooner rather than later." He placed a reassuring hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “We _will _clear your name. And if we can’t...I’ll figure something out. Be patient and sit tight.”

Barret's face fell into his usual impassive mien. He snapped a sharp salute and strode resolutely through the door, determination in his eyes. Roy stared at the now empty door for several seconds before sighing and leaning against his desk in exhaustion. Drained was a mild descriptor for the emptiness he drowned in. He knew in a few moments his office would be flooded with his subordinates for a briefing on the situation, and for the life of him, he could not think of what to tell them. That Hughes had been attacked by one of their own, someone who they never thought to distrust?

_ You don't know that, _ he thought to himself angrily. But it looked bad. Whether Alex had been coerced or not, he’d been witnessed assaulting Hughes, who now lay drugged in a hospital bed within the very institution that may be responsible. Even as he tried to deny it, sharp stabs of betrayal burned in the back of Roy’s throat. What if it was true? Would he risk the others' lives on the off chance that this wasn't what it looked like?

As the door clicked open and his friends and supporters began filing into the room with grim determination, Mustang swallowed hard and steeled his mask once more.

No, he would not.

* * *

I stared in silence, the oppressive walls of my small cell comforting rather than claustrophobic because, for the first time since my liberation, I was alone. In my hand was a small square. Such a little thing, really, just a piece of paper. In the big scheme of things, it was an insignificant scrap, meaningless to all but a few. If a stranger looked at this, they would feel nothing more than passing interest at most, and even the people who knew the subject might only feel a flicker of recognition, give a small smile at its humor.

But for me, the image barely visible in the nearly complete darkness threw my world upside down, reversed time, and stopped it at an impossibly precarious edge. It mercilessly awoke a part of me that I had long thought dead since coming to this world, something I shouldn't feel because it was a betrayal of my past to feel it. I also had enough self-awareness to recognize when something isn't real, even if I so desperately wanted it that it ate away at me like a sickness in my chest. I have to wonder if Hughes had known all along, or if this was all just some mistake that he slipped this to me in his last moments, just another one of his photos slid into a file meant for someone else. Perhaps it was even meant for the subject himself, but it was just my luck that this innocent little thing came to my hands to strike me in the sternum with all of the force of a derailing freight train. Either way...well. Either way.

Roy Mustang slouched on a mahogany couch, disheveled. He glared balefully into the camera, eyes heavy as if just waking from a nap, annoyance laid bare to the lens pointed in his direction. Hair mussed, top two buttons undone and skin warm with the reflection of the fireplace that roared merrily across from him, the photo almost looked like it could be sensual...save for the small seven-year-old child splayed across his lap. Nina lay on her stomach across his legs, unabashedly using the man as a pillow and blissfully unaware that the two were being spied on by a mischievous cameraman, comfortable and content to continue her snooze. 

The camera angle was off, nearly cutting off the top of Roy's ruffled hair. There was a smudge on the lens. The lighting was slightly too dark.

It was the most beautiful photo I had ever seen.

I lowered the small square and moved my gaze to the other item Hughes had slipped me moments before I stole a part of his soul. It was a map of Amestris, lines and circles scrawled over it haphazardly, the names of cities and dates connected in a sweeping, hastily drawn circle. I didn't know what any of it meant, only that the blood absorbed into its crumpled folds and his desperation to hide it marked it as a dire warning that would never reach who it was intended for.

I looked back at the small photo in my hand and didn't fight it as Hughes' stolen courage welled up within me, awakening warm feelings I hadn't even been sure I was capable of anymore. It made me feel like I could do anything if only I stopped hiding, stopped being afraid. A small smile curled my lip as I tucked both pages back into my clothes and out of sight.

I had a message to deliver.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot tell you how many times I have gone over and re-written this chapter. It's one of my favorite moments in the series and I wanted to do it justice but also introduce Alex's rebellion. I'm using this chapter to set up a lot of things that will come to light later, so I hope I finally got it right. New content is on its way after the next chapter, which is the last from the original version and will be quite a bit different from what those readers experienced. 
> 
> That being said, I probably won't be updating this for a while because I'm doing NaNoWriMo starting tomorrow! Whoop! My very first time, look at me, trying new things. I'll be writing an original work as a companion piece for my other series, Hack. If any of my readers out there are also participating, my username is Lynxrider and I could always use a buddy! Follow me @lynxrider on Twitter for updates (which will probably be a lot of me bitching about how hard it is lol)
> 
> Happy Halloween!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex makes a deal with the devil and Roy makes a hard decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this chapter is, like, 80% pain. I'm sorry. I promise it's going to get better from here on out though! Alex is finally on the right track :D Enjoy.

Something felt different. 

It was indefinable; a child growing into their gangly limbs, a lion growing into its hunter’s instincts. Before, I didn’t notice. I couldn’t, really. Scar’s unbridled rage took everything I had to subdue. But with Hughes….I realized that I could do it again, and do it easily. My ability to sense emotions had intensified acutely, to the point that I could practically see each thread of feeling weave and color the soul in front of me with the spice of courage and the stinging bitterness of fear. I could reach out and touch it, draw it into myself and weave it into a little ball of warmth behind my sternum. Somehow, it filled a part of me that I hadn’t known was empty. Adictinging, like a drug.

Like the red stone.

The comparison made me cringe, but the similarities were undeniable. If the red stone had sustained me when I’d been incomplete–was, in effect, the souls of humans captured and made into power–then the ability to draw parts of a soul into myself could very well do the same. 

The fact remained, however unpleasant, that I was becoming more powerful by the day. Even now I could feel the threads of the city above, as if the population of the living had become indistinguishable from the souls in my stone. Only, they didn’t only feel grief and fear, but joy and laughter as well. Happiness. I could sense the other side of the spectrum now, the side that I myself hadn’t experienced in too long. That part, at least, was nice. And now that I was much better at filtering out the noise, I could even enjoy it a little, as I had during the celebration in Dublith a lifetime ago.

But whether my newfound power was a cause for celebration...it was hard to say. For one thing, the more power I gained, the better my chances to destroy these wretched monsters who held me captive. And yet...I truly was a monster as they were now, not just in my mind, but staring me in the face like a particularly ugly reflection. I’d _ hurt _ Hughes. Intentionally broken him, even if I’d saved his life in the end. What life was it that remained, I thought bitterly, when one was so broken they could do nothing but huddle in fear of the world, the part that made him _ Hughes _ taken like a vampire drains its prey? In the dark, I tormented myself with visions of Gracia and Nina and Roy when they found out what happened, how they would revile me and ask _ why, _disbelief turning to hatred when they realized what I’d done.

The only thing I could do was hold that piece of him carefully separate of my tainted soul and hope that one day I could restore to him what I’d stolen. I didn’t expect them to forgive me. Their forgiveness wasn’t necessary for me to do everything I could to protect them.

Mercifully, I had been left to my own devices after the altercation with Hughes. Just as before, the influx of emotion had been too much for me to deal with, leaving it to the dubious discretion of Envy to get me to a safe place so I could process it. While obviously infinitely more pleasant to deal with than rage, courage was just as raw, just as uncontrollable by itself. It urged me to break away and make for freedom as if it were actually feasible if I only believed I could do it.

Dangerous.

I didn't really remember much about what happened right after I stole a piece of Hughes' soul, just brief flashes of mindlessly following after my amused companion until I was shut into complete darkness. I had no idea how long it'd been since I shut down completely, cradling that small piece of Hughes carefully inside of my chest like a precious jewel, just that by the time I was able to 'wake up' I was curled into a loose ball on my side in an unfamiliar room, the only source of light a dim flicker beneath a sealed door. The first thought to take me was that I could tear down that door in a heartbeat. The second was that I really, really didn't want to.

Memories washed over me of Hughes' final moments, of his disbelief, fear….betrayal. I suppose I deserved it. All of it. But even as guilt clawed at my throat with wicked edges for what I did to him and his family, I couldn't help but feel so terribly relieved because, despite everything, _ he's still alive_. At least there was _hope_. It could have gone so differently had it been up to Envy and Lust. I could see their plan now, the one that was almost executed; the gun Envy held to one of my dearest friends, the face for the innocent man he wore that would condemn him for the crime, the wash of blood across Hughes' chest. Oh, it could have been so, so much worse.

I knew I broke him even as I turned away so I wouldn’t see what I had done, knew that this would damage him terribly, because no matter how I averted my eyes I could _hear _it. His screams chased me all the way down as I retreated into myself to protect the little piece of him I stole, body on autopilot as I fled. My only hope was that somehow, someday I would be able to reverse the damage.

It was as I curled into myself tighter on the cold cement floor that I felt the crinkle of something foreign against my skin. Frowning and making quite sure I was alone–there were no seams in the walls or cameras in the corners–I pulled out a wrinkled and stained wad of paper that changed _everything. _

I had lost much, yes, but there was still _ so much _ to fight for.

Ever since the Gate...no, ever since I was pulled into this world, if I’m being honest. The Gate merely showed me the truth of what I’d already lost. In the emptiness afterward, I had grieved, but what, truly, was I grieving _ for? _ Not my lost child, nor my lost lover, not even the place I had in the other world...no. I had already grieved for them, whether I was conscious of it or not. The truth was, I was cut open by my loss of _purpose_. It's funny, but that tiny picture and that crumpled up piece of paper gave me a new one.

I knew I was selfish, I _ knew _that. That was the perspective I'd had all of this time, only thinking of myself, _ my _escape, _ my _return to my original world...but what about this one? I’d loathed this world, yes, but slowly came to love it the people in it. I have family here, and yet all I could think about was me. 

I was ashamed. 

If I escaped, what then? I was no hero, never had been. Even now I could honestly say that if it was a choice between all the nameless faces in Amestris and just one person I loved, I would choose that one overall. But Hughes gifted me two things that might just make it all worth it; hope, that despite everything there was still a place for me in this world, and the courage to fight for it.

I was done being the victim. This was _my _world now, and these creatures were _not going to mess it up. _

Even now Hughes' message burned into my skin beneath my shirt, carefully hidden behind my belt and folded tight enough to not make a sound with movement. Loathe as I was to damage the precious gift he gave me, I knew that I would have to destroy the small photo before it was discovered and became leverage used against me. Likewise, I spent as much time as I was able to perfectly memorize the numbers and scrawls etched into the map so I would be able to replicate it when the time came. As soon as I had a single second without surveillance, I would destroy that too.

Not knowing when I would be called on again, I used the unexpected time I was given to plan.

I could see what I needed to do, I just didn't know how to get there. How would I give these creeps the slip? They watched me constantly, never letting me out of their sight. How was I supposed to get a message to Roy, especially if they didn't trust me?

A small grunt, a mutilation of a laugh really, pulled from deep in my chest. That was it, wasn't it? The homunculi needed to trust me.

A small spark of an idea began to form, not really a plan but something I could begin to do to reach my ends. The homunculi wanted me on their side, so well, what if I was? I cringed but tried not to shy away from the idea of willingly doing their bidding. These powers I was given, I could use them to avoid dealing out death like they seem partial to, as long as I was smart about it. Eventually, I hoped they would trust me enough to allow me to do things on my own.

Every inch of me rebelled against the idea of just passively doing what I'm told, however, and I knew then that I would have to do something else as well. I wanted...I wanted to tear them apart from the inside. I wanted to tear that stupid smug grin off of Envy's face, rip Lust's black heart out and shove it down that monster Gluttony's throat, but it wouldn't really do any good. There _was _something, however, that I could work with.

Envy and Lust hated each other. 

The creek of the ancient door finally opening came both too soon and not soon enough. Too soon, because I couldn't stand the company of the creatures I had been forced to coexist with as of late, and not soon enough because I was practically vibrating with the energy pent up from the need to _ do something. _

I opened my eyes and stared directly into the too-bright light, both a dull dread and a new excitement clamoring around my head.

"Well, look who's finally awake," Envy drawled, draping his thin form against the ancient door frame, light from a grate far above illuminating his back. "I was sure I would have to get rid of your vacant corpse."

"You'd miss me," I quipped, standing smoothly and brushing off my stale clothes. "How long was I out this time?"

Envy smirked at my casual tone, and I couldn't decide whether it was predatory or just amused. "Long enough for you to gather dust, sleeping beauty."

It was clearly meant as an insult, but I smiled. "Oh? Have you come to wake me with a loving kiss? I hate to say it, but you’re not my idea of prince charming."

A flash of annoyance before that sharp smile was back. "Would you rather Lust came to wake you?"

My clear disgust at the notion pulled a grin from the other man.

"You should have seen her face," Envy sneered. "She was livid when she realized what you'd done, ruining her _ perfect _ plan like that."

"What's to ruin? That plan was far from foolproof to begin with. Besides, I wanted to try it out. I just didn’t expect it to be so," I swallowed, trying hard to disguise my guilt, "powerful_. _"

"Oh, yes," Envy licked his lips, remembering with distinct pleasure. "But don't even _try _ to pretend you weren't protecting that investigator guy. You only did that because you _ cared _." The word was layered with disdain, as if the very thought of caring for someone was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard of.

_ Careful_, I thought, _ careful_. "Of course I did," I said firmly, taking a stab in the dark and hoping it didn't come back to bite me. "I owed him a lot. And besides, what do I owe you? What the hell do I owe _ Lust_? Sure, she might have had something to do with creating me, and she might hold the reins to my freedom," at this, Envy's smile widened knowingly, but I ignored it. "I might even have to do what she says, but make no mistake, I would have given up an arm to see that look on her face when she realized I used my power in front of you when she clearly wanted to keep it to herself," I allowed myself a small mischievous smile, "Well, to say it would feel pretty good would be an understatement."

Envy threw back his head and laughed, the cackle scraping across the walls and the chamber beyond the open door. "Oh, I _ like. _ You're a plucky little brat aren't you?"

A bit emboldened, I replied, "Little? I dunno if you've looked in the mirror lately, beanpole, but last I checked we were the same size."

A low growl was my only warning before I violently lost my breath to the solid wall behind me. Blinded by the sudden flash of light, I strained against the now very large hand holding me by the throat. Envy had shifted again, much faster than he had before, into a dark-skinned man large enough to give Sig a run for his money. "I would check the attitude if you want to survive," a rough growling voice whispered in my face with fetid breath, smelling of decay and moist places that never see the sun. With a sudden flash of fear, I realized that he was much stronger than me for whatever reason. Where Lust was conniving, using her whit to control me, Envy was raw _power _that I could not overcome with strength alone. He felt unbelievably _heavy, _ stonelike against my skin.

I grasped his hand, momentary panic taking leave of my senses. My vision began spotting as both blood flow and air was denied my body, and just as with the fight with Scar, my new ability reared its head, a pressure building. 

Only there was nothing to sense. As with Lust, I could feel nothing of Envy, only a dark, emotionless void–

Just before I began to lose consciousness, a low howling began in the dark, growing in volume as my other senses began to fade. 

No, no, not my philosopher’s stone, not now, I didn’t have time for this! Damn this power, _ useless _ , why couldn’t I have a great power like Envy, _ why couldn’t I be strong like him? _

The hand was wrenched away fast enough to make my hands sting and I barely caught myself from collapsing forward, hacking coughs wracking my frame and glorious air rushing into my lungs, clearing my head. I blinked, bewildered as the angered howling stopped abruptly. Internally, I prodded my philosopher’s stone, but other than a discontented murmuring, it remained dormant. 

What the hell _was _that? Why did my stone react that way? 

Envy scoffed at my heaving form. "You seem to be under the impression that you can't die, but let me assure you, it just takes slightly more _effort. _" With a flash, he was back to his original form and striding out of the door casually, threat delivered. "Now come along, brat, Father wants to see you."

For a long moment, I couldn't force myself to move, still reeling from the foreign influx of sensations that wracked my body. What the hell. I hadn’t lost control of my stone like that since the early days in my prison... but now my stone was totally fine, not even a peep though I did nothing to suppress it.

Shaken, I got up and joined an impatient Envy at the door, head bowed. "Father, huh? I haven't seen that guy since the Gate."

"Yeah, well, you'll be seeing a lot more of him now that you're actually useful," Envy sneered, gesturing grandly for me to follow.

I did in silence, cloth shoes scraping softly against the damp floor. 

It was two hours before either of us spoke again. I was too deep into my own thoughts to mind that Envy was keeping a slow, meandering pace through the smelly dank of Central's underbelly. In fact, I was so distracted that he could have walked us through raw sewage and I don't think I would have noticed. Envy seemed just as content to ponder his own thoughts and I wondered if there was a reason he didn't seem to be in a hurry. Wasn't Father their boss or something?

"...Where are the others?" I asked finally.

"Probably waiting for us."

Ah. So it was defiance, then. I could get behind that. Reminding myself that I was trying to get on Envy’s good side, I joked, "I see how it is. You just wanted to keep my scintillating company all to yourself."

"More like I enjoy taking the others' toys."

I didn't even try to hide the wince at that wording. "Hm, well I am quite the prize."

I got a derisive chuckle for my efforts. "You never quit do you?"

"Can't say I've ever found my off switch, no."

"I'll give you one if you don't shut the hell up."

"..."

"..."

"...So shapeshifting, huh?"

Envy growled and I wisely fell silent. I flicked a pebble into the tainted water running beside us and resigned myself to the long walk ahead. Turned out my taciturn guide was over his little game, however, and picked up the pace. Or maybe he just found me too annoying to deal with any longer. Small victories.

Gradually the dank drainage tunnels transformed into abandoned facility halls that were clearly no longer in use. Unmarked doors, their numbers faded and uses long-forgotten, passed us by, most closed but some ajar to hint at what their contents might have been. It was truly an extensive network and I couldn't have kept track of the twists and turns if I tried. I wouldn't be surprised if there were whole communities of homeless and wretched living down here...

Seemingly at random, Envy abruptly stopped and turned to an unmarked door. Before I could ask him what he was up to, he slammed his foot into it, wrenching it open with a crack.

"Brat's awake," he bellowed into what I could tell was an exponentially larger room. I took a fraction of a second to compose myself, brushing lightly against Hughes's soul, allowing it to warm me with its courage. Then I squared my shoulders and stepped inside.

I gaped in disbelief as I gazed around the strange chamber. It was at least ten stories high, perhaps more. I couldn't tell because it faded into black the higher up I looked, and the top was hidden by glaring white light I could not see the source of. The walls were obscured by thick, roping cables so dense the underlying structure could not be seen. I tracked them all the way down to the floor as they writhed into a central mound in the middle of the immense room, a stately chair perched atop it. Envy was already several strides ahead, making his way around the mound and I scrambled to catch up, careful not to trip over the masses of cables. A niggling of a memory tickled my mind, and I realized that I’d actually been here before, just after I 'awoke' from my prison.

As I walked around, others were revealed. Envy, Gluttony, and Lust were all present, but there were two more I didn't recognize; a small boy no older than six or seven with black hair and an unsettling smile, and an older gentleman in a white shirt and slacks. I felt I should know him from somewhere, but his face–an eyepatch obscuring one eye and a black mustache– escaped me. Lust's attention locked onto me and I resolutely ignored her, coming to a stop as far from the group as I could manage without slinking through the wall.

"So we are all here," a booming voice echoed through the room, pulling me from my concentrated perusal of my filthy shoes to the man who spoke.

He sat upon the chair as if it were a throne, wreathed in white and illuminated by the light above. If I wasn't so intimidated, I might have been amused by the obvious god-complex the man seemed to have. But there was nothing remotely funny about this situation. Father, or Truth or whatever he wanted to call himself held the guise of an older man, long blond hair glowing in the dim and framing a strong-jawed face, eyes narrowed around indeterminable irises. I frowned, examining his features. I feel like...I feel like I've seen him before. Not from the Gate, or when I woke up but…

I was distracted as one of the homunculi I didn't recognize spoke up. The child's voice held a cold amusement that lowered the temperature in the room and sounded much more intelligent than was natural for such a young appearance. "Well, not all of us, though I'm certain Sloth wouldn't care either way. And Greed, well," he let the statement draw out and Envy grinned maliciously. Gluttony didn't even look like he was paying attention.

"So, who's the new kid?" the child sneered, and I shuddered at his cloying tone.

"That, Pride, is your new younger brother," Father gestured magnanimously. "He is Empathy."

"Alex Elric." I startled badly at the sound of my name–a name I hadn't heard in a _ long _ while– and whirled around to face the unnamed man. Immediately, I took a step back at the threatening promise of death in his one gleaming eye, though I noted that instead of the rouge of my counterparts, it was a startling icy blue. "You'll have to forgive me. I had my suspicions about you since the Elric brat joined the military, but had I known who you were I would have greeted you sooner." At this, his frigid glare released me and settled on Lust who stood unmoved by the harsh lines of hatred etched in the man's face.

Lust examined her nails, unrepentant. "I didn't even know he was going to survive, my dear. Otherwise, you would have been the _ first _ to know."

"A blatant lie," the man said, dangerously calm. "I know how you get with your toys, _ my dear _."

"Wait…how do you know me?" I interjected.

"I happen to be the one who holds your brother's leash. My name is Wrath," a grim smile exposed his canines. "But I'm better known as Fuhrer King Bradley."

I mouthed the words to myself in shock. The King. He was the _ King of Amestris_. I couldn't stop the pool of panic in my stomach from showing on my face. Somehow, even though I already knew this situation was dismal at best, this revelation just made it all so much worse than any of us had ever thought. I had to tell someone–Roy, he had to know–

"Now, now, children, enough of that," Father said calmly before I could properly react, or perhaps rashly act on the impulse to run through the streets yelling out the terrible truth to anyone who would listen, to warn them of the snake in their midst. "You know, my son, that that information never leaves this room, of course." He stared me down coldly as he said this but it wasn't the tone that jarred me. I gasped as a heavy force settled onto my shoulders, rattling my bones and sending blood rushing through my ears. A second passed and then two, and the force only got more intense. Bewildered, I staggered to my knees. The others stood impassively, watching. "_ Am I understood? _ " This time the voice was so loud it practically vibrated the walls. But no, I was simply trembling so badly because _ it was in my head_.

"Yes! YES!" I gasped, bowing under the pressure. Suddenly it was gone, leaving me reeling on my hands and knees. That was where I stayed, shuddering and not daring to lift my eyes. Someone snickered but I couldn't tell if it was Envy or Pride. Second time today, I thought dully, and wondered if I should just permanently plant myself on my knees to save them all the trouble.

"Stand," Father said in a much more gentle voice and, resigned, I forced myself from the floor, not daring to disobey. "I did not summon you here to berate you, but to welcome you to our number.” Lovely. I felt so warm and fuzzy inside. “However, there is something that needs to be addressed. I heard you interfered with the job of silencing the man who’s been a thorn in my side for a while now?"

I could practically feel ice stabbing into my bones from Lust's angry gaze on my back, but unexpectedly, I got support from Envy, of all people.

"Oh, oh," he cackled. "We won't be hearing from that one again. Empathy _ destroyed _ him."

I flinched. Envy laughed louder. Father raised a regal brow at Wrath to confirm and the false king nodded, one sharp jerk of his chin. A kindly smile that didn’t reach his eyes spread over Father's face. "Wonderful. It seems like your fears were unfounded, my dear Lust." A displeased hum came from behind and I didn’t dare look. "I will have you perform more tasks in time, Empathy. Be sure to continue to do me proud."

I nodded in assent, stomach roiling. I shifted and drew strength from the sharp points of paper digging into my skin. I would find a way. I _ had _ to….

"Now then, there is another matter I have summoned you all for." His gaze released me and I let out a subtle sigh of relief. “There are rumors of resistance in the South. Can you imagine? The refugees think they can do as they please in my domain…”

"The South," Bradley mused. "There are more than rumors if my sources are to be believed. Also, the Elric boys have traveled there recently, if I'm not mistaken." 

Had they? That was...interesting. I suppose I hadn’t given much thought to what Edward and Alphonse might have been up to lately. We’d been apart for so long...

"That settles it then," Father said with a wave. "Destroy this ‘uprising’ before it becomes a nuisance. And if you see the Elrics...well, try not to kill them. I would rather not face the inconvenience of finding replacements."

"I'll do my best," Wrath confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But I make no promises." He turned on his heel and stalked from the room. With a drawn sigh, Pride lifted himself from the floor and followed Wrath out without a word.

I kept my head down, shoulders rigid with the effort not to watch them leave. Or better yet, stop them. Ed and Al were in danger but I couldn't do anything to help. Not here, not now with all these monsters around. I could feel the others' gazes on me waiting for me to react, but I didn't let them see it. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax, looking up at Father's approving face. I would just have to trust that whatever the false king had in store for them, they could handle it.

If I wanted to make any difference at all, I would have to hold onto the hope that my brothers would be able to deal on their own. For now my place was here. Besides, even if I wanted to stop them, I would easily be overpowered…and then I would be back where I started, with zero chance of helping anyone.

The cold brush of a finger against the back of my neck was my only warning before I was pulled back by unyielding arms into Lust's soft body. With a startled gasp I went rigid as one arm wrapped around my waist and the other sidled up to the base of my throat, squeezing gently. 

"Good boy," Lust purred into my ear, long hair tickling my cheek and shoulder as she wrapped around me. "You couldn't do anything anyway. You might as well forget about those brats… they abandoned you after all…"

Her poisoned words couldn’t reach me, however, because for the second time that day, a pressure crowded my lungs with foreign power beneath the chill of her touch. My body locked as fire surged in my blood, originating from everywhere we connected and licking down my spine to pool molten in my belly. I gasped, flushing as she held me close for the first time since she released me from my prison. The sensations were wild, uncontrollable as my stone once again went haywire. 

I relaxed despite myself, settling into that unbearable heat. Unfortunately, Lust took that as an invitation to place her frigid lips against the sensitive skin between my jaw and ear. I moaned, a barely discernible sound in the back of my throat, yes, right there, _ more– _

My eyes flew open, body going stiff as a board with shock.

A surge of adrenaline had me moving faster than I had in either of my lives, wrenching her–suspiciously unresistant–arms from my person and propelling me out of her grip. I turned on her like the dangerous animal she was and stumbled back, hand clutching at the cooled spot she left on my skin in an effort to erase the feeling. 

The sensation had only lasted for a moment, but it was enough to fill me with the icy dread. I shuddered, nonplussed, and tried to calm my racing heart. What was happening to me now? I couldn’t...not Lust. The very thought filled me with revulsion.

_ It certainly didn’t feel revolting a second ago, _an insidious thought whispered and I had to fight to control my suddenly rebelling stomach. 

Several seconds passed as Lust stared at me, not seeming at all perturbed by my sudden departure, her arms open to welcome me back. My hackles rose at the look in her eyes. She appeared utterly convinced I would come to her eventually, that my resistance now was only a temporary inconvenience.

Loud laughter broke our little stalemate and I let my attention waver from the woman in front of me to see Envy with his head thrown back, chortling into the air as if this was the most amusing thing he’d seen all year. "Oh, ho! It looks like your little pet doesn't like your touch, vixen." He leaned forward with a gloating grin. "How does it feel to be rejected, hm? Not so perfect after all, are you?"

A low growl had me stepping back a few more paces as Lust lips dipped into a deep frown. I stayed well back as the two homunculi locked challenging gazes, the tension in the air thick between them. I tensed and prepared to run, tersely reminding myself that their rivalry was a good thing… as long as I didn't get caught between them, that is.

"Now, now, children, enough of that," Father, who I had momentarily forgotten, spoke out commandingly. Envy huffed and Lust turned her back with a more neutral expression. "Lust, my dear, I need you to go to the surface and make sure the pawns are doing as they are told. I don't need any more screw-ups."

"I've already given them all the evidence they need," Lust said tightly, still visibly bothered. "If those fools still can't manage to arrest one measly human then–"

"Lust," Father said, a warning and a threat, though Father had not moved from his languid recline above us. I flicked my eyes back and forth between the two, trying to figure out what they were talking about, but came up empty.

Lust pursed her lips and fell silent. "Yes, Father." She glared at me. "Come Empathy."

"No," Father interjected, stopping me from automatically following the command. I fell still, internally berating myself for the knee jerk reaction. "I want Empathy to go with Envy."

"What?" Envy immediately protested, but one look from Father reduced him to irritated muttering, too low to hear.

"I need you to focus," Father addressed Lust. "This mission will take finesse, and you don't need to be...distracted. Take Gluttony with you, and make sure he stays out of trouble."

Yes, a little less being distracted by Empathy, please. In fact, forget I even exist. I wasn't really sure how I felt about the reassignment, but one thing I knew was that it was very satisfying to see the look of muted rebellion and displeasure on Lust's face. At least I would be away from her for a while. I could use a break from her steadily increasing sexual harassment.

Even if I would have to deal with Envy instead.

Without another word, Lust spun on her heel glided out of sight. I watched her leave, grateful, but then a small movement drew my attention to the previously ignored homunculus in the room, one I had almost forgotten about in his silence. A thrill slithered down my sides as I registered Gluttony's unwavering, empty gaze on my person, expression unreadable except for a small wrinkle of stress at the corner of his overly wide mouth. For several unsettling moments, he merely stood there before a sharp command from Lust had him scurrying out behind her. My stomach roiled with nerves as I watched him retreat, knowing in my gut that someday soon he and I would most likely have a match to the death over Lust's affections, no matter how much I wished she would just leave me alone. Somehow I doubted my feelings would stop Gluttony from trying to eat me.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do with this brat hanging off of me all day?" Envy asked, attitude dripping off every word.

"I have no use for you at the moment. Why don't you go make sure our guest is still alive and on task? As for Empathy, do what you will with him, just make sure he doesn't get into trouble." With that Father closed his eyes in dismissal, going back to...whatever he was doing before we all got there.

Well. I didn't like the sound of that. I watched Envy's face carefully for any sign of devious machinations with my person, but he merely glared at Father before stalking from the chamber in the same direction we came.

For several beats I didn't follow, wondering what I was supposed to do, but a glance at Father's unsettling figure had me scurrying after Envy in haste to get out of the old man's presence. I wasn’t sure what power he had over me–something with me being a part of his soul?–but I definitely didn't want to test him again. Comparatively, Envy's sour presence was something I would much rather deal with, death threats and all.

I stepped into the darkened hall and paused, watching Envy's retreating back. The picture of Roy and Nina burned against my skin, a constant reminder of what I needed to do. I was away from Lust now and Envy didn't seem to care one lick about me or what I would do. Perhaps...perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to make a move.

"Come on, brat, I haven't got all goddamn day!" Envy growled and I hastened to catch up.

"Yes, you do," I quipped. Envy grunted a laugh of amusement, much to my surprise. Huh. He has a sense of humor after all.

"Sooo," I started, and he rolled his eyes over to glare at me, clearly wanting me to shut up but resigned to my constant chatter. After all, it wasn't like death threats were going to deter me anymore. "Who is getting arrested now?"

"Who do you think? I know you're rather dim, but you were there after all." Envy spoke casually, bored as he trudged through the muck, following a path that only he knew.

I thought back, not the least bit perturbed by his sultry attitude at this point, to the events that we experienced together. With a sinking heart, I came to the only conclusion I could. They were still framing Barret for Hughes' attack. "Still?" I muttered, wincing at the memory of Hughes' face as he went down. "I figured there would be no point since he didn't actually die."

Envy chortled. "I think you did a pretty good amount of damage, kid. Besides, we still need a scapegoat and the plan was already set."

I bit the inside of my lip, holding back the scathing retort I wanted to give him. I had thought that maybe my friend would be spared. I owed him more than this. Still, I had to choose between his freedom and Hughes’ life, and I might come off as a bastard for saying so, but the choice was obvious. I could only hope that I could convince Roy of his innocence before anything drastic happened. 

"Kid?" I changed the subject, not wanting to think about it for the moment, "Not brat? I must be growing on you."

"Like a damn fungus," Envy was quick to reply. "Why the hell Father dumped you on me…." he devolved into sullen muttering that I didn't care to interpret. The few broken curse words I could hear let me know I wasn't missing much.

"Complain all you want," I said, deliberately cheerful as I knew it would annoy him the most. "At least neither of us have to deal with Stalker Bitch and the Walking Gut."

Envy seemed to choke on his own spit this time, and I watched with a grin and innocently wide eyes as he hacked through his laugh. An unnecessarily hard hit to my shoulder was my reward and I winced, stumbling. "You really hate her guts, don't you?"

My expression immediately closed. "With every fiber of this fabricated being," I growled.

His grin turned feral, a wolf sensing weakness. "And yet you remain at her beck and call. How that must irk you, to be her little bitch. Tell me, has she pinned you down yet? Sucked out your soul while she fu–"

"Don't," I snarled, rounding on him. He looked on not the least bit cowed as I advanced. "Don't even joke about that. I can't even–" Envy's mocking laughter was the only thing that kept me from losing whatever might be in my stomach, though I hadn’t actually filled it in who knows how long. "If she didn't have that _ goddamned _ locket, if she wasn't going to throw me into that _ place _ again, I would–"

Envy's guffaw cut me off. "You–you think _ she _ could–Oh god, this is rich!" I glared, but it only seemed to set him off anew.

"What?" I snarled. Of _ course _ he thought my possible imprisonment was funny. He would probably get a kick out of it to send me there himself.

But his cackles didn't cease, the creature nearly doubling over on himself in mirth. "You-you think–ha! Well, if you don't know, then _ I'm _not going to tell you. Although~"

"What? What is it?" I threw my hands in the air, at the end of my rope. 

"You finding out could be entertaining, for me at least…"

"Find. Out. _ What?" _

"What's in it for me?"

My jaw snapped shut, thrown. Envy crossed his arms expectantly, smile sharp in the semi-darkness. "...What do you want?" I mumbled against my better judgment. By the look on his face, I really didn't think I wanted to know.

Glee painted Envy in ugly shades, I decided. "Oh, I'll have to think about it," he sing-songed.

Great. Like I needed another homunculus to control me.

"Why do you even follow these people, anyway? You clearly hate them."

The mirth faded right off Envy's face. Something flashed behind that gaze, something I didn't recognize, but it was gone before I could suss it out. "For the chaos," he finally purred, matter-of-fact.

I shivered, swallowing thickly. "Really? That's all?"

"Is that all, he says," Envy sneered. "Yes, that is all. All those filthy humans, living their pathetic little lives like vermin, I like to watch them scurry about like the worthless animals they are." His voice lifted in passion, and it took everything I had not to step back. "I want to make them _ bleed." _

His eyes slid up and down my body, filled with greed. I could feel the gaze slide against my soul like the slime of oil against water and in it was a promise of the pain he so clearly wanted to inflict. I didn't think for a second that it was specific to me. The way he spoke of the suffering of others as if it brought him physical pleasure...What did he have against humans? What could anyone have done to this creature to inspire such hatred?

But perhaps I only needed to consider his nature to understand his grief. Envy, after all, could never be content with what he had. He could very well be jealous of humanity, and for someone motivated by only one base drive, that would be enough for him to justify the need to destroy the very thing he just couldn’t reach. 

Something I understood all too well. If I had been consumed by my envy of every woman who could bear a child, I would have been driven mad long ago.

I decided it didn't matter. What _ did _matter was that his goal didn't seem to be aligned with the others, and that was something I could use.

"Well then," I said lowly. I did nothing to hide the disgust in my tone because I was certain he didn't care one iota about my opinion. No need to play nice with this one now that I understood him better. He only wanted one thing, and that was something I could deliver. "I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

Envy bared his teeth. "What could _ you _ possibly offer me?"

The decision hung by a thin thread of chance, no more than a strand of the web I’d woven to tether me from the threat of spectacular failure. I needed to take a risk, and it all hinged on one thing: did Envy care if Father's plan succeeded?

I was going to guess not. If anything, he didn't seem to care one way or the other as long as he got his excitement, in whatever sick fashion that may be. I would stop him. I would stop them all. But for now, I needed to make a deal with the devil.

"What you want," I said, more evenly than I expected. "Chaos."

Envy scoffed. "You think you could give me that? How, little bitch? You can't do shit with that leash around your neck."

"Then release me. You know something." I growled. "I want Lust at my feet begging for death. I want her to _ scream _ as I tear out her heart and then I want to make her _ watch _ as I do it over and over and over again until her lives _ run out _."

"Tempting," Envy mused, running a fine finger down his pale face. "I do so hate Lust. I don't see how that benefits me, though. Try harder."

I smiled mischievously. "Oh, you know. I just want to cause a little _ trouble_. Who knows how long Father's plan will take. It must be so boring, being at his beck and call all the time, _ little bitch. _ " My smile disappeared and I continued before the temper I can see flashing behind his eyes derailed us again. "You set me free, and I will set _ you _ free."

We stood at a stalemate for several seconds, neither willing to move. I could see the cogs turning behind his blank rouges, the desire, the hatred all warring with the impatience he had presented effervescently since I first laid eyes on him. Because he was just like me, a prisoner to Father's plans. Our shared captivity would be what bound us. "You don't have the power to do that," he said finally, bitterly, and there was a flash of something in the twitch of his lips that didn't seem like anything I'd seen from him before, hinting at emotion below the surface of the arrogance and nastiness he portrayed. I blinked, not sure exactly what it was I saw, but filing it away for later.

"Maybe not yet," I shot back swiftly. "But now there are two of us. I would say the odds have improved in your favor considerably, wouldn't you?"

Slowly, a nasty glee ate Envy's features until all I could see of him was the gleaming whites of his sharpened canines. "You make a fine point, my new friend." I held my ground as he pulled me close and whispered in my ear, breath foul enough to burn my nose hairs.

It was nothing compared to the words he said. My heart pounded an uneven staccato as he relayed a secret to me, one Lust hadn't felt the need to mention in order to retain power.

"Lust can't imprison you. Only Father can."

* * *

I sprinted through the streets of Central, the wind ripping at my hair and clothes while pouring rain drenched me in stinging waves. I reveled in the discomfort, elation fueling my steps. Because I was free.

Not in the sense that I could escape my situation entirely. I had to stay beneath Father's thumb until I could find a way to take him down. But now I had an ally. Now, I had freedom from the oppressive chokehold of that insufferable whore. She may still have the locket and I may not be able to escape her just yet, but she had lost that vital hold on me that had me doing her bidding without question. 

I laughed, the rumbling of my voice drowned out in the patter of rain and wind. Right now I couldn't bring myself to think about what it meant to be on Envy's side, or what this deal would cost, because I had my ticket to tearing them all apart. The planning would come later. For the moment I thought of nothing but the wind beneath my wings and the rain washing away the filth on my body, cleansing.

Envy let me leave. Just like that. With a careless wave, he sent me off with the threat, "Remember, brat, you owe me. If you think for one second that you can escape them without my help, you've got another thing coming."

"Likewise," I sneered, taking the warning to heart. Then, I was gone, finding the nearest exit to the outside world and breathing the free air for the first time in ages, Envy's crude laughter fading into the darkness I left behind.

I would need to go back. Soon. But there was something I needed to do first.

I had some idea where I emerged, ending up close to Central Command, the white gleaming walkways and buildings bright as day to me in the darkness. That the homunculi had their den right beneath the feet of the military was not my concern at the moment so much as the convenience. I knew exactly where I needed to go next.

My heart soared at the thought of finally seeing Roy again. I had so much to tell him; about Hughes, his message, the Fuhrer and Barret and that Ed and Al were in danger–

I slowed, nearing my destination, the streets as familiar to me as the back of my hand with as much time as I’d spent here. I gazed up at the house where I knew Roy slept, so many emotions roiling inside on the wings of a thousand butterflies.

I had to tell him how I felt.

I placed my hand over my heart, the crumpled photo filling me with strength. He wouldn't accept me. I knew that. We were too different, and this body...well, for starters it was male. Inhuman. Still, even though the rejection would sting, I would go through with it. If I’d learned anything in the past few years in this hellish world, it was that life was too hard, too fragile to let this go. I _ needed _this, _ needed _him to know how much he meant to me. Before it was too late.

I took a deep, steadying breath, drawing carefully on Hughes’ courage to see me through.

Before I could take a single step the door opened on its own. I froze, shock holding me in place more effectively than any shackles as a wave of pure, unadulterated _fury _stole my breath. It rose from the crowd of contented sleepers in the slumbering city like the violent flames of the man they embodied, banishing the peace and shaking me to the core.

Black eyes gazed out of a stony face, expression carved out of marble as Roy walked slowly into the street light. His hair immediately plastered down in the rain, onyx locks in sharp contrast to his pale skin and clothes darkening with moisture. Deep shadows rested beneath bottomless irises that narrowed as they locked on to my trembling person, his anger and _hurt _rising like a crimson miasma around his disheveled form.

I flinched, tears filling my eyes as his arm slowly rose.

No. He _can't. _Not Roy. He can't truly believe I betrayed him. Roy, of all people, the man who believed in me from the start, who knew my heart and shared his pain with me, my best friend.

But there was no denying the look in his eyes, the complete lack of warmth and familiarity that I had come to love, no denying the harsh line of his lips not brightened with a laugh or that damnable smirk or the genuine soft curve that only came out in certain beautiful, unguarded moments.

There was no denying the gun pointed at my breaking heart.

* * *

Roy stared down the barrel of his pistol, heart pounding so hard he could practically feel his veins dilating and contracting with the adrenaline spiked blood pumping through him, tearing at him like shards of glass. It was by sheer force of will that he kept a steady hand and face impassive, though he could feel the grimace eating at his expression whether he liked it or not. There was no hiding the anger he couldn't contain, and it _ burned _ him, made his finger tremble against the trigger.

Hughes' broken visage blinded him for a moment, and he almost did it, almost activated the weapon and tore into the traitor until he was nothing more than a bloody smear on the wall. The only thing that would be more satisfying would be if it hadn't been _ goddam _ raining and he had his gloves on so he could _ incinerate _ him.

The only thing–the _ only _ thing–holding him back from doing just that was the fact that it was Alex.

If ever there was a match in Roy's regard to Hughes, it would be him. The young man who Roy shared so much of himself with, who had wormed his way into his life more quickly and insistently than anyone else Roy had ever met, who he cared for so inexplicably deeply it _ hurt _when he'd been taken. Alex, who had betrayed Roy so terribly that the older man couldn't possibly imagine being alright again, couldn't fathom his chest without the awful pain eating away at him anymore.

He was just. There. Out of nowhere. After all this time–the sleepless nights, the aching absence, the pain on every face of those who loved him–Alex had appeared from the darkness of the street like he'd never been gone. And now here he stood, healthy and hale as if the events of Lab Five, as if _ Hughes, _ hadn't happened. As if he were still welcome in Roy's home after _what he did. _

"Roy," Alex croaked, hands pressed against his chest as if mortally wounded, face contorted in shock. His voice was low, deeper than Roy had ever heard it and it sounded alien to Roy's ears, as alien as his unfamiliar form. Rain streamed down his face and clung to his black clothes and the bare skin of his shoulders. Roy couldn't tell if the water on his face was from tears or the pouring rain, nor did he care.

"Give me," Roy growled, vicious as another surge of rage boiled his blood, "one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off where you stand for what you did to Hughes, _ homunculus." _

Alex stumbled back with a gasp, trembling from some force Roy couldn't see. Perhaps it was fear. Good. He _ should _ be afraid!

The intensity of the violence he felt stunned Roy. He had thought he'd been doing well, holding back the floodgates of his fear for Hughes, but it had been so _ hard _ to focus on the vital tasks before him rather than succumbing to the pain. He'd been a mess, was _ still _ a mess without him. There wasn't anyone else in this world he'd loved more–still loves, dammit, he's not dead–and he had always known how heavily he relied on Hughes' support and friendship. It was as if Roy was the one broken on that slab. He felt as lost as he had after the war, when Hughes saved him from himself.

There was no-one he'd opened up to more, who knew him as well. No one except the man standing so boldly at his doorstep as if he had _ any _ right to be here.

The day before he had told his team, and believed it then, that they suspected that Alex was being held against his will by the homunculi. But as the day wore on and the reality of Hughes' state sank in, Roy could feel the darkness growing within him, was finding it harder and harder to deny what he was starting to suspect. 

Now Alex, the very man they had been looking for to the point of exhaustion, the man who may be responsible for _ breaking _ Roy's dearest friend, just _ showed up_. It was the final straw that set Roy's shock and hurt burning away all rational thought, and Alex made a compelling target for the violence ripping Roy's insides apart.

Hughes' face was in the forefront of his mind and he forgot about how much he'd missed Alex, forgot about how much he had wanted to find him, how his brothers had been worried desperately for him. He forgot everything but the sensation of misplaced revenge. The gun in his hand trembled.

"Why shouldn't I?" Roy hissed.

Alex hunched over himself where he stood, long hair falling over his face in dark golden strands, hiding his expression. He breathed deeply in exertion or some strong emotion that Roy couldn't discern. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, red eyes reflecting the dim streetlight demonically, sharp features contrasting starkly with the softness of the boy Roy remembered. But the expression on his face was the farthest from demonic it could get. 

Vulnerable, despaired, it was the expression of a man broken.

Roy hesitated, hand shifting the lightest bit. Alex looked so different, so much more menacing in the light of his supposed crimes, but...that expression was familiar. Familiar as their conversations in the late nights where Alex shared with Roy his story as his only confidant in this world, the only one who he trusted with the truth. Where insomnia and nightmares pulled at Roy and they passed the long hours of the night talking until the older man was finally able to find rest. Roy had soothed that very look–a look that should have never been on one who looked so young but belied the old soul within–from Alex again and again in their friendship. It looked as out of place on is fair face now just as it did then.

Though Roy's actions would have been imperceptible, the change in Alex was immediate and dramatic. Alex's face shifted, hope sparkling dimly in his eyes. Roy grimaced, suspicion tightening his chest, but whatever Alex must have sensed, it compelled him to speak.

"Because," he said huskily, and Roy was strongly reminded of Edward as if the boy were standing right there instead of his misplaced brother. "If you kill me," he cradled his hand over his heart, face softening as if he held his own child. "Hughes dies."

Roy froze. "What?" he whispered.

"I have him, Roy." Alex smiled tremulously. "He's right here. I can save him."

Slowly, Roy lowered his gun, anger scattering like dust in the wind, a painful surge of hope rushing in to fill the aching chasm left behind. "What do you mean?" Hughes' wasn't broken? He could have him back?

Alex's smile wavered. "Oh, Roy. I have so much to t-tell you." His face crumpled and he let out a sob, a breathless, choking gasp that had Roy's gun falling from numb fingers to clatter on the ground. It was as if a spell he'd been under for the past two days, no, the past couple weeks, broke and he could see clearly again. What was he _ doing? _

_ Alex. _ He was _ here. _

Roy strode the long yards between them and wrapped his arms around the young man's shoulders, a whole new set of emotions overtaking him in a soothing wash of cool, comforting blue.

_ Relief. _

Alex immediately curled against his chest with a wail, burying his face in Roy's neck, shoulders shaking with the release of tension, practically melting into Roy's support. Roy dimly noted how much taller he was now, how much wider his shoulders. It couldn't be possible in the short amount of time apart, but there was no denying that he had grown to stand almost as tall as Roy himself. But he pushed down the questions for now and just let himself have this. Just let himself _breathe_, the toxic knot in his chest smoothing incrementally until his soul no longer looked quite so unrecognizable.

Soon enough Alex's cries died down until he merely stood against Roy, the occasional shiver quaking his body. Gently, Roy pulled away, aching when Alex tried to follow him with a small noise of distress, but coaxing him to stand on his own. The rain pattered around them, picking up in intensity and Roy shivered, reminded of his state of undress. His hands tightened around Alex's arms, the man automatically leaning into him. He still couldn't believe it. After all that searching, Alex was _here_.

Cold. Soaking wet.

"Come on," he said gently, coming back to himself and stepping away. "Let's get dried off." Alex nodded, refusing to look up from the ground as he followed Roy into the house.

Roy quietly shut the door behind them, cutting out the pattering of rain and throwing them into darkness. He walked past Alex's frozen form into the living room, lifting his ignition glove from his side table. With a snap, the room was thrown into soft light, fireplace lighting with a puff of heat. Roy shivered violently in the wash of warmth and turned to find Alex still standing in the doorway, red-rimmed eyes wide and gaze far away as he examined the room.

"Aren't you coming in?"

Alex took several seconds to meet his eyes. When he did, it seemed like he was seeing Roy after years away, like he had never expected to see him again. With a slow nod, he stepped into the room, accepting the towel Roy handed him.

Roy took a minute of silence to really observe him, comparing Alex against his memory. So much had changed. They had a lot to discuss.

But not yet. Roy waited until Alex had finished drying himself before guiding him the chair adjacent to the fire, and he was struck almost dizzy by the symmetry of the situation. It almost felt wrong for Alex to be in his usual spot after everything that happened. It seemed Alex had the same thought, because his eyes were filling with tears again. But he didn't let them fall, just stared into the fire and placed his hand over his heart, as if drawing strength from the gesture. While he stared at the fire, Roy stared at him, noticing the crimson splash against his neck that hadn't been there before, to the sharp line of his jaw, the damp golden hairs that clung to his brow…

Roy pulled his gaze away, walking to his liquor cabinet and pouring both of them a drink. Truth knows they both needed it. He placed a glass of amber liquid in front of Alex before taking his usual seat. He took a deep breath.

"Alex. What happened?"

Alex let out a derisive laugh, breathy and low. "That...is a loaded question. Where do I even begin?"

Roy shrugged, feeling rather empty after all of the strong emotions that had beleaguered him for so long. "How about from Lab Five?"

Something dark flashed in Alex's gaze before smoothing into a wistful look. "Wow. That was so long ago…"

"It certainly feels like it," Roy agreed, thinking back to all the long nights, the frantic rushes so many impossible tasks that need to be done _ now _ only to leave him bereft with long hours of impotent worry.

Alex shook his head. "No, I don't mean it figuratively. For me, it's been...Hell, I don't even know." When Roy frowned in confusion, he elaborated. "Lab Five was a trap. One second I was fighting Lust, the next I was leaping at Edward to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. I was too late. The Gate pulled me in."

"Edward told me," Roy said softly. "What did you see?"

Alex's lips twitched in dark humor, eyes glimmering with meaning as he looked at Roy, and the man felt his heart clench in quiet dread. "You know what I saw." Roy closed his eyes briefly, nodding. They had suspected. To have it confirmed though...it must have been terrible. He wanted to reach out, to say–something. But Alex wouldn't let him, continuing swiftly as if to brush the matter away. Roy pursed his lips. They would need to talk about this, but it didn't seem like Alex was ready. So he let him speak.

"They put me in some sort of prison; a space between the Gate and reality? I’m not sure." Alex's brow furrowed, haunted. He took a shuddering breath before continuing. "Whatever it truly is, time passes more slowly there. I estimate I was in there anywhere between six months to a year."

"That's an awful big time gap. You couldn't tell?"

Alex's voice trembled. "No. There's nothing in there Roy. Nothing. It _ broke _ me." He rubbed at the chair beneath him, as if to make sure it was still there. It seemed compulsive, and Roy wondered if Alex realized he was doing it. Roy had the strong urge to go over there and touch Alex, to pull him out of whatever terrible memory plague him, but he held back, unsure if such a gesture would be welcome. "They released me once I agreed to join them."

Roy gaped, taking that in. He couldn't imagine what Alex described. He'd read accounts from those who witnessed the Gate of Truth. They wrote of a white plane where nothing existed but themselves and the Gate. Had Alex been in such a place this whole time? No wonder he’d seemed to vanish...because he _had. _

Roy had so many questions. What had Alex done during that time? What had been done to him? What did he mean by _ break? _ But something in the painful set of the young man's jaw held the floodgates of inquiries at bay. "You agreed to join them?" Roy said instead. Unease flitted through him. Alex flinched, looking at Roy with wide eyes. Again, Roy wondered if he was able to read his mind, if his power had grown along with his body.

"I didn't think I had a choice!" Alex exclaimed pleadingly, fear coloring his tone as if Roy would attack him. To be fair, he had been about to not too long ago. "You don't know what she _did _to me, Roy! How she poisoned my mind with lies, how she was the only contact with the outside world, how her voice was the only thing I heard, her body the only thing I could _feel–" _ Alex cut himself off, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, eyes tightly shut.

Alarm spiked through Roy, jaw dropping as he watched Alex cling to himself. What he was describing was more than psychological and physical abuse. It was sensory deprivation, _ programming. _ He had heard of this form of torture before. It was one of the many senior officers had to prepare for and train to withstand. But that training didn't last longer than a week, and it was _unbearable. _ To have endured that for the amount of time Alex described was nothing short of horrifying. Roy wondered how Alex could possibly be sane. You don't just come out of something like that overnight. 

He examined Alex's fetal position with sharp eyes, scanning for signs of physical abuse, though he knew there wouldn't be any. There wouldn't need to be though, what he’d suffered was painted in every tense line of Alex’s trembling form.

It didn't look like he would come out of it any time soon. Roy would need to tread carefully, not wanting to upset Alex further, but he needed to know the extent of what he’d endured. Standing, he walked slowly to Alex's huddled form and crouched down in front of him. He placed a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder, and Alex flinched tellingly.

"Alex," Roy intoned grimly. "What did she say?"

"...Lies," Alex whispered. "She tried to poison me against you and my brothers. After a while I–I believed her."

"And do you believe her now?"

Alex hesitated before he shook his head slowly. Inwardly, Roy sighed in relief. "And what about...physically? Did she…" He couldn't even finish the question, disgust and loathing of the idea rising in him, a sickly hot green.

Alex tensed, and Roy braced himself for the worst. But then, slowly, Alex shook his head again. His eyes peeked out above his arms. "I don't remember everything. It's all kind of a blur now...but she just–touched me. Even in my weakest state I never let her get that far." And the last statement was bitter, but satisfaction colored his tone as if that denial was the sweetest revenge.

Roy let out the breath he had been holding. "Good. That's–good." He rubbed Alex's arms unconsciously, oblivious in his unease to the intimacy of the gesture. Alex lifted his head and watched his hand, drawing one of his lips between white teeth. "But you're here now, you're safe. It's over."

Alex looked up, startled, before something in his demeanor sent a thrill of alarm through Roy. "No, it isn't. I have to go back."

Roy stood abruptly, snatching his hand back. "Are you saying," he said in disbelief, "that you really have joined their side?"

"NO!" Alex shouted, jumping to his feet as well and shaking his head rapidly. "No, I haven't, please believe me!"

Roy was unmoved, cold. "Explain." He stiffly sat back down in his own seat, and Alex hesitantly followed suit. Roy spasmodically clenched his hand, the cloth of his ignition glove scratching at his skin. He didn't think Alex would try to run, but he would keep him here forcibly if he had to. He was not going to disappear again.

"I need to stay with them. I want to _ tear them apart." _ Alex's words dripped with terrible bitterness, voice dropping into a deep growl in his anger. Roy shivered, reminded abruptly that Alex wasn't human, appearing more beast than man at that moment. But then his shoulders eased, voice assuming a more normal tone. "I _ need _ to take these guys down. I need to make sure they can never hurt anyone I love again."

Roy shook his head in denial. "No. You can do that from here."

"You know as well as I do that having me on the inside will–"

"No."

"Roy. They think they can control me."

Roy banged his hand on the table. "I don't care!" Alex fell silent, shocked. "Do you have any idea what your family has been through since you were taken?" What_ I've _ been through, he didn't say. He didn't want Alex to go back to those monsters. Not now that he knows what Alex has been put through at their hands. More than that, Roy didn't want to lose another person he cared for, dammit! He was too raw, too pained after Hughes.

"...They'll understand."

"Like hell!" Roy snapped, but Alex's jaw remained set, stubborn. He reminded Roy of Edward so acutely at that moment that Roy felt the stab of defeat before Alex even opened his mouth to rebuttal. There was no arguing with that expression that the Elrics had so effectively cultivated over the years.

"I'm going back." His tone was final. Roy rubbed his fingers together, on the brink of throwing himself at the younger man to force him to stay before his senses returned in a disappointed rush. No. He couldn't fight him. Alex was practically immortal now, and he would only give away that he was here if he did, along with destroying half the city. He deflated, face drawn and skin feeling paper-thin as he couldn’t hide his grief.

"Oh, Roy," Alex breathed, softening regretfully, "I don't want to fight you." Roy could see it in his rouge gaze. He looked so tired, so sad, the fire reflecting softly off the drawn angles of his face, dark bags beneath red-rimmed eyes. Roy let out a deep, long breath, reminding himself that he was far from the only one suffering.

"You mentioned," he changed the subject, speaking slowly. "That you could save Hughes."

Immediately, the young man's visage brightened, eyes lightening with optimism. "Yes. I can."

There was that treacherous feeling of hope again. Roy shied from it, remembering the damage his best friend endured. How? "How?"

Alex smiled. "You remember my ability? Well, when the philosopher's stone completed me, I guess it fully developed. The homunculi wanted me to kill him, but I convinced them that I could silence him instead." He shifted uncomfortably, smile falling a bit. "I kind of...took a piece of his soul. His courage. But–" he lifted his hands placatingly at the horrified expression on Roy's face, "it's right here, in me! I can return it. I think."

"You _ think?" _

Alex's jaw clenched, determination shining brightly. "No. I know I can. I just have to get close enough."

Something in Roy seemed to shatter at that. He looked away desperately, trying to hide it, but an indrawn breath from across the room let him know that Alex wasn't fooled. He laughed humorlessly. "Developed, huh?"

"...Yeah. I can feel your emotions from all the way over here if they're strong enough."

Roy didn't know if he liked that, but he was too relieved to care. Alex could help Hughes. There was hope.

"It was you, wasn't it? The one who fought Scar."

Alex huffed, leaning back in his chair, and startlingly normal gesture that felt out of place amidst all the drama. Roy couldn't help an amused twitch of his lips, easing just slightly at the familiar quirk. Perhaps Alex wasn't that changed after all. The core of him seemed to be intact, and that warmed Roy more than words can say. "Oh man, I have so much to tell you! Yeah, it was me. That's when I sort of discovered my little ability." He tapped his chest. "I stole his rage. And it's not easy to manage, let me tell you."

“Is that something we can use against the homunculi?” Roy asked, mind whirring with possibilities. If something like this could be utilized against their enemies as well as it had been used against Hughes, then they could have a very potent weapon on their hands.

But Alex didn’t look so sure. “I don’t know. The homunculi are different from the humans I’ve used it on. Their emotions are pretty much nonexistent. I can’t really ‘feel’ them, except…” his brows drew together. 

“Except?” 

A deep sigh, but his expression lit with a bit of intrigue. “It’s...a thought. But you have to understand, taking a single emotion from Hughes or Scar nearly consumed me.” He looked into Roy’s eyes earnestly. “I don’t know if I’d be able to control whatever broken piece I’d take from one of them.”

Roy nodded slowly, accepting that answer for now. He certainly didn’t want to put Alex at more risk than he had to. But how were they going to take down these near-immortal creatures, then? His thoughts must have been obvious because Alex looked just as frustrated when he answered the unspoken question. 

“I do know that it’s possible,” he smiled wanly. “Envy heavily implied that they–we–could be killed...eventually.” 

“So what...exhaust the philosopher’s stone?” 

“Something like that. It definitely takes energy to restore our bodies over and over again. It’s just too bad we’re so damn hard to damage in the first place.” 

Roy grunted, a small laugh. Not that they ever thought this was going to be easy, but things only seemed to get bleaker the more they learned. "So tell me then. What else have you got?"

Alex grinned. "You got a pen?"

Roy quirked his own smile, grabbing a small book from his side table. Like every alchemist worth his salt, he carried a journal to write down his stray thoughts. In code of course. Couldn't have anyone stealing his secrets. He handed it over with a pen, and Alex flipped through it curiously, squinting at the illegible handwriting and obscure drawings before finding a blank page and pressing it against the table between them.

"This," he said, drawing a circle across two pages at once, pen bumping against the gap messily, "is Amestris."

Roy's heart jumped in recognition. A map. Hughes had learned something from a map and tried to leave a message. Could it be? Had Alex somehow gotten the message when he attacked him?

Alex's hand moved rapidly, drawing little dots along the circle's edge before scrawling sloppily next to them. Names of cities, Roy realized. And numbers. Thin lips moved silently as he muttered to himself. Every once in awhile, Alex’s pen would hesitate and he would bite his lip before shakily writing once more. A bead of sweat trickled down his jaw and neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. Roy's dark eyes followed it unconsciously as he waited. "Okay," Alex finally sighed, mentally fatigued. He leaned back. "Okay, I think that's right. Good thing I got it to you so soon, I was beginning to forget."

Roy examined the drawing intently. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, feeling the pen pressed into it. Deftly, he corrected a few dates that were a bit off until a clear picture appeared. The question was, why? Why did Hughes write down the dates of the campaigns along the border? It was common knowledge. It must have been important, or he wouldn't have dedicated his last moments to it…

"Do you know what it means?" Alex asked after several minutes of silence.

Reluctantly, Roy shook his head. "No. They're the dates of wars Amestris has waged along its border, but I don't know how that's relevant." His eyes lingered on the four little numbers scrawled next to a little dot in the east, desert sands and fire haunting his memories.

"But that can't be right," Alex muttered, frustrated. "It has to be significant, it _ has _ to be. Hughes wouldn't–"

"No, he wouldn't. I'll take this to Barret, he may know what it means. He was with him the night Hughes was attacked." Roy didn't take his eyes off the image, deep in thought. Dimly, he was aware that Alex continued speaking.

"There's more. The Fuhrer is one of them."

That got Roy's attention. "What?" When Alex clenched his jaw in confirmation, Roy carded his hands together, giving him his undivided attention. "Tell me what you know."

For the next hour, Alex told him everything he could remember. How many homunculi there were, the location of their base, Father, the few details of their plan he could glean. The more he spoke, the grimmer Roy became, until finally, Alex fell silent, leaning against the back of the chair in exhaustion.

"You're right," Roy finally said reluctantly. "You need to go back." This situation was much direr than he had ever imagined. Whatever their ultimate goal was, he needed someone on the inside. Even if it caused him physical pain to do so. He dropped his head in his hands, blocking out the world until all he could focus on was continuing to breathe. He felt the weight of the world settle heavily on his shoulders.

"Hey," Alex said gently, and suddenly he was there, body heat radiating warm against Roy's front. Roy felt soft hands gently card through his hair and he fell still, surprised. "It'll be okay. We'll figure this out." Alex’s nails scratched against Roy's scalp, raising gooseflesh along his arms. Roy forgot to breathe, looking carefully into Alex’s face. Alex pressed his lips together but didn’t look away. When he realized the touch wouldn’t be withdrawn, Roy relaxed cautiously, taking the comfort offered.

"How can you say that? The world is at war, and you have to return to the creatures who _tortured _you. And Hughes is–" he swallowed.

"...Hughes will get better. I promise."

Roy smiled a little, but it fell off his face an instant later. "You said you never let that woman get far. Does that mean she was trying?" He grabbed the hand that stroked him and gripped it tightly. Alex stared at him with wide eyes, mere inches away. His cheeks flushed with warmth, lips parted in surprise, and Roy didn't know what the _hell _he was doing, but it didn't feel wrong. The unspoken question fell like a weight, heavy and insistent on the tentative air between them.

"I won't ever give in to her. Not willingly." The hand in his grasped him back and Alex's eyes glimmered with determination.

"And if she takes what she wants?" Roy insisted. Alex faltered, real fear overtaking his features before he shook it off. 

"I won't let her."

"How can you be so sure? What if–"

A soft pair of lips over his stunned Roy into silence. It was brief, only lasting a couple of seconds, but felt like it went on forever, shook Roy at his roots until he trembled with it. Alex pulled back softly, brushing a thumb against Roy's cheek, staring with glittering red eyes that had so frightened Roy before, but now looked anything but disturbing. "I won't let her, not ever. Because there's only one person who can touch me." Not breaking eye contact from the stunned man, he pulled something from his shirt and pressed it into the slackened hand resting against Roy's knee. Roy's fingers instinctively curled around it, but he couldn't bring himself to break eye contact.

"I need to go now," Alex said when Roy didn't speak. There was something heartbroken in his eyes as he gazed at Roy's shocked face, but he seemed lighter somehow, like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Roy's vision blurred, too many emotions to process paralyzing him, more exhausted than he thought he'd ever felt. "I'll return soon, and we'll figure out what to do about Hughes. Keep him safe until then?" Roy nodded numbly.

With one last sad smile and a light brush of gentle fingers against Roy's cheek, Alex turned and left, closing the door softly behind him without a backward glance.

It was only sometime later that Roy was finally able to move, uncurling his hand and staring down at the barely legible photo of himself and Nina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I sat on this chapter for way too long. I'm never going to be happy with it. Luckily it manages to accomplish what I want anyway so I can finally move on. I have the next chapter nearly complete (new content, FINALLY NEW CONTENT) so I'll be posting that very soon. Ed and Al meet a neutral party who has his own agenda ;) I won't be following the anime much from here on out. I have a different idea of how everyone thwarts Father, and a few characters won't be making an appearance while some will be getting a larger role. And finally, after years of hiatus, I'll get this story moving again. I can't wait!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet a homunculus named Greed and find that he's not all that he appears.

“So what do we do now?” Alphonse asked after long minutes of silence. He stared out into the street, bustling with people on their lunch break. The sky was bright today, and he wished he could feel the breeze that tugged at the edges of his hood. As usual, people gave him and Edward a wide berth, his form still intimidating despite his recent upgrade. 

Edward chewed his food slowly, deep in thought. That was the question, wasn’t it? They had been once again derailed in their path, now needing to pursue Alphonse’s memories as well as the philosopher’s stone. How they were going to do that was still in question, as Izumi hadn’t had any real ideas to do so and Edward didn't even know where to start. Orkan had been likewise elusive during their stay in Dublith, though they did manage to find his bar and leave a note with the young woman running it. She’d given Edward a very sly look and promised she would be sure to hand-deliver it, much to Alphonse’s amusement. 

Only for that amusement to quickly die away once she told them to pass her greetings along to Alex. The more people they ran across with a connection to Alex, the deeper the chasm he left behind became.

“Well, we could still continue to travel south? There’s still a possibility pursuing the philosopher’s stone will draw the homunculi.”

Alphonse hummed, not really agreeing or disagreeing. If he was being honest, he didn’t hold any sort of hope that the Ishvalans had any useful insight into the stone, and wandering aimlessly was a crapshoot at best. 

“Thinking of leaving town already?” a man’s congenial inquiry pulled them abruptly from their thoughts, not having noticed that their conversation was no longer private. 

He was tall, dark-haired and unfamiliar, a pair of tinted glasses obscuring his eyes. A confident smirk defined the lower half of his pale face and his voice was smooth, friendly even. Broad shoulders at ease, he didn’t seem like a threat, but Alphonse didn’t trust so easily these days. 

“Don’t think that’s any of your business,” Edward said slowly, frowning. He glanced at Alphonse, but the younger didn’t have any idea who this stranger was than he did. 

“Now, now, no need for such suspicion!” the stranger said affably, taking it upon himself to slide into a seat uninvited. Edward’s hackles visibly rose despite the words, and the man raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a friend! Or, at least I can be, depending on if you’re willing to hear me out.” 

“That depends,” Edward said, “Who the hell are you?” 

“Not important right now,” the stranger said, brushing aside the hostility with ease. “Much more interesting is who you are!” His eyes sidled to Alphonse. “Who would have ever thought I would run into such a remarkable man? I’ve been watching you for some time now, and I have to say, I’m impressed.” He was easygoing, charismatic even, but his words immediately put the two of them on edge. 

“You’ve been watching us?” Edward said incredulously, but the stranger only had eyes for Alphonse.

“How did you do it? A completely new body like that–so strong, so _immortal? _ I’m simply _ dying _ of curiosity.” 

Alphonse leaned back from the sudden engrossment in the man’s tone, growing more alarmed by the second. “How do you know that?” 

“Hey, eyes over here, asshole!” Edward snapped, pushing his chair back with a shove. “You had better start explaining why you’ve been _ stalking my little brother _ before I _ end _ you _ .” _

“Calm down, Mr. Fullmetal Alchemist,” he replied flippantly, not at all cowed by the much smaller man’s threat. Edward’s eyes widened. He knew who they were. Not terribly uncommon; they’d made quite a name for themselves. But usually, it was Alphonse who drew attention, and he clearly recognized Edward. “I happen to have a vested interest in that body of his.”

Edward visibly simmered with unease, and Alphonse feared it would soon come to blows right in the middle of the square. “Answer me. Who are you?” 

“Ah, where are my manners?” the man said, affected dismay thick. _ “My _ name is Greed.” He pulled his glasses down, just enough to reveal his red eyes and give Edward a sultry wink as if sharing a lewd secret.

Edward reared back and Alphonse nearly tumbled out of his own chair in shock. A homunculus! Here? They hadn’t even made it to the Ishvalan camps yet! 

A surge of excitement and trepidation had Alphonse on his feet as well, Edward and he moving closer together to face down the threat. 

“Oh dear,” Greed said, a sharp grin belying his amusement. Alphonse clenched his fists. The man’s teeth were sharp–like an animal’s. “I see you two have already met one of my kind. I assure you, I have nothing to do with the clowns masquerading around this fair country.” 

“Gee, why don’t I believe you?” Edward said bitingly. He glanced at Alphonse, and the younger nodded. They had one of them in their sights and they couldn’t let him get away. Only, as Alphonse quickly expanded his awareness to their surroundings, he realized that they couldn’t confront the creature here. Already they were garnering too much attention, the other patrons and passersby giving them wary looks. That was likely why Greed had chosen such a public forum to confront them in the first place. While Alphonse and Edward didn’t want harm to come to the people around them, Greed likely had no such qualms.

With concentrated effort, Alphonse allowed his limbs to relax from his guarded stance. He took his seat again, slowly, deliberately, and after a moment, Edward followed suit, fire sparking in his eyes.

“If you don’t have anything to do with them,” Alphonse said in a more reasonable tone, “then why are you here?” 

Greed smiled, triumphant. “I’m so glad you asked! As I said, my name is Greed, and I want it all. Fame, women, power, _ immortality.” _ He raked his eyes over Alphonse’s body covetously and Edward scoffed in disgust. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t I?” Greed tilted his head like a predator might regard its prey. “A body that doesn’t need food or water and can live forever? I think I know _ exactly _ what I’m talking about.” 

“But you’re already immortal,” Alphonse said slowly. “And this body has its drawbacks. Like, I can’t eat or enjoy, uh, _ women.” _ He shifted uncomfortably. 

That seemed to give him pause, grin falling to something more bitter. “I’m hardly immortal. That’s just what they want you to think. Besides, sex itself gets boring after a while. One tends to become desensitized after fifty years or so,” he waved off. 

Cheeks lightly flushed, Edward cleared his throat, shaking off the awkwardness of that particular statement before it could distract him. “You can die? _ How,” _he demanded. 

Greed’s grin came back in full force. “My, you do have it out for my brothers and sisters, don’t you? Tell me, what did they do to you to deserve such ire? Ooh, I bet it was terrible. Nothing’s beyond their depravity as far as I know.” 

“None of your damn business! Where are they hiding? How can we destroy them? Talk!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Greed cajoled, and Edward bared his teeth. “How about this? I propose an exchange of information. I tell you what I know, and you tell me how you created this _beautiful _creature? Sound fair?”

Edward slammed his hand on the table, drawing even more attention. Alphonse shifted uncomfortably. If they weren’t careful, things could get ugly, fast. “He’s not a creature. He’s my little brother!” 

Greed lifted his hands placatingly. “Fine, fine, have it your way. Do we have a deal?”

Slowly, Edward eased back, expression rebellious. “Brother,” Alphonse said softly, drawing his attention. “Isn’t this what we wanted? It doesn’t sound like he’s in league with the others. Maybe he can help us.” 

“I have my doubts,” Edward gritted, not taking his eyes from the amused homunculus. His metal hand left gouges in the table where metal fingers twitched. “We should just take him down and force him to talk.” 

“You’re welcome to try,” Greed said agreeably. “But, as I’m sure you gathered, my kind are a bit _ hardier _ than most.” 

“We can’t risk it,” Alphonse said, wishing dearly that he could have a moment alone with Edward. But they couldn’t let this homunculus out of their sight now that they had one so close. Edward growled in discontent but eventually conceded. 

“Fine. You tell us what you know and I’ll tell you how Alphonse got this form. That’s it.” Besides, it wasn’t like he would be able to do that to himself. Homunculi couldn’t use alchemy after all, and there wasn’t anything that said Edward couldn’t lie through his teeth rather than let this bastard know the specifics of human transmutation. 

“So it’s decided, then!” Greed stood, opening his arms welcomingly. “But not here. Why don’t we make our way to my home so we can get better acquainted? I promise to show you boys a _ good _ time.” 

With full confidence that he’d gained their interest, Greed spun on his heel and began to make his way through the crowded streets. Arrogant, as if he deserved the world at his feet, and yet he moved easily out of the way of others, offering a friendly nod to those who looked him in the eye. 

For several seconds neither Alphonse nor Edward moved. Despite any outward friendliness, this could very well be a trap. After all, Lust had at first seemed an ally, and look where that had gotten Alex. In fact, the pattern was unsettlingly similar; stalk, woo, _ take. _

Teacher was still at her home, and they were nowhere close to any sort of reinforcements. If they went with this man, they would be on their own. But this was the most solid lead they’d had in weeks. If they didn’t take it now, they would be back in square one, with their brother still missing and no way to get ahold of another homunculus. 

“Brother.” 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

* * *

Greed led them down backstreet after backstreet, his path as meandering as his unconcerned gaze. They didn’t speak as they followed his swaggering form, both on high alert for an ambush that never came. That only put them on edge more, however, and the stress was making Edward more irritable by the second. When were they going to get wherever they were going? He had half a mind to say ‘screw it’ and try and bring the bastard down by force the next time they passed a quiet spot. Something about his arrogant demeanor and honeyed words set Edward’s teeth on edge. Greed reminded him too much of Mustang for Edward’s taste, like he knew more than he would ever let on, acting like he was better than everyone else. 

But before he could act so rashly, Greed turned abruptly and started descending a set of stairs, a weakly flickering sign above flashing ‘Devil’s Nest’ in ancient neon. 

How appropriate. The lameness of it all very nearly had Edward scoffing out loud. 

“No need to be so critical, kid,” Greed chided, glancing over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. “This is my home! Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to judge?” He opened the door and swept a hand inside, inviting them in. Edward glared the entire time as he passed him by, only taking his eyes from him once he’d stepped inside. 

It was a dive bar. A filthy one. Only, there was no bartender behind the decrepit counter nor alcohol on its shelves. The place was clearly abandoned and no one was inside, entirely empty of furniture save for a few barstools and a single table. There were a few other signs of life–a blanket pile here, a duffel bag there–but it didn’t look like this place had actually been used in quite a while.

Sweeping past them, Greed offered them a seat at the bar and ducked behind it. Cautiously, Edward and Alphonse sat down, though Edward was careful to sit with his back to the counter, keeping the rest of the room in sight in case someone showed up. He would not be taken by surprise. Not this time. 

“Aha,” Greed said, standing and pulling out a bottle of amber liquid. “Not that I expect a kid like you to appreciate this, but this bottle of whiskey is over forty years old! I won it in a card game not too long ago. My opponent was not pleased.” He chuckled, pouring himself and Edward a glass. Edward eyed his with disgust, but Greed started on his with relish. 

“You won it in a card game? Why not just take it?” Edward pushed the drink away, highly doubting it came into his hands legally. 

“Where’s the thrill in that?” Greed answered with a shrug, not at all offended at the obvious jab. “Taking is easy;_ boring. _ I’d much rather win with skill. I may be greedy, but I like to prove that what I take, I _ deserve _.” 

Edward snorted, surprised despite himself. Honor among monsters? “Whatever. Tell me what you know.” 

“Ha! Such a broad statement. I can fill novels with the information I know. I’ve been around for a long time, kid.” 

Edward growled audibly at the obvious evasion and Alphonse stepped in with his calm voice, soothing him somewhat. “We’ll be specific then. You see, we’re looking for someone. Our brother was taken by the homunculus who calls herself Lust.” 

Greed looked curious at that, leaning against the bar with a coy smile and a glass at his smirking lips. _ “Was _he now? Well, I hate to tell you this, but if my dear sister got ahold of your boy, then I doubt there’s anything left of him. Her _ passions _can be brutal.” 

“What are you talking about?” Edward seethed, and Greed let out a barking laugh. 

“Her name is Lust. What do you _think _she does with the men in her grips? I’ve only ever known her to keep slaves for her own pleasure until they’re all used up.” A twist of disgust soured his face. “Unlike me, she doesn’t treasure her possessions. Everything she takes, she ruins.” 

Edward didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to consider what Greed was implying. “He’s just a kid,” he said hollowly, even though he knew that wouldn’t matter to beings like these. 

He was right. Greed lifted a brow, unimpressed. “You think that makes a difference? If he’s as pretty as you, he doesn’t stand a chance.” Rolling his neck, Greed continued casually to their stunned faces. “You might get lucky, though. She does so love the long game, and tires of her toys quickly once she’s gotten what she wants. If you’re fortunate, you may be able to snatch him from her before she kills him, if he’s not dead already.” 

“She won’t be able to kill him so easily,” Edward said sharply, a bad taste in his mouth. “As you pointed out, your kind are hardier than most.” If Edward knew anything about his brother, he would hold out. He had to.

Greed’s brows rose. _ “Oh. _ Well, that changes things! Another brother to add to the ranks? Father has been busy.” 

That gave Edward pause. “Father?” Alphonse asked when Edward couldn’t quite form the words. 

“You two really don’t know anything, do you?”

“Spit it out,” Edward snarled, swiftly losing patience. “Or we don’t tell you jack shit.” 

The smirk of amusement quickly sharpened, pointed teeth glinting in the soft light as Greed’s eyes darkened in threat. Edward forced himself not to back down, the atmosphere changing between them abruptly, dangerously. “Careful brat. You’ve willingly walked into my den. Don’t make the mistake that you have the power to dictate terms to _ me.” _

Electricity crackled between them, raising the hairs on Edward’s scalp. The stalemate held for several seconds. “Brother,” Alphonse said softly, and Edward allowed his eyes to flicker to him for just a moment before snapping back. 

“Fine. We’ll play nice. For now.” 

Greed relaxed, playful demeanor back in place. “Good boy.” Ignoring Edward’s answering glower, he shrugged, mockingly apologetic. “I’m afraid what I can tell you is rather limited since I fell out with the fam soon after my creation. See, I didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t top dog, and Father isn’t exactly the sharing type.” 

“What. Does. He. Want.” Edward gritted out. Patience, he reminded himself. They were finally gathering useful information. Despite how infuriating the source, they couldn’t afford to waste this chance.

“He wants to be a god,” Greed drawled. 

That...wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. Or rather, it was too obvious. Really? “That’s it? He wants ultimate power or something? What the hell for?”

“Got me,” Greed said, and this time seemed genuine, rolling his eyes. “I may be the embodiment of avarice, but what's the point of being the ultimate power? Where’s the struggle, the _fun? _Everything going your way at the snap of the fingers sounds boring as hell.” 

Edward and Alphonse exchanged wary glances. “How exactly is he going to achieve that?” 

“Ah, see, that I don’t know. I didn’t get too cozy with them before bailing, and Father’s not the trusting type even with his closest followers. I left after the god-complex got too suffocating for my taste.”

“Then what _ do _ you know that can help us?” Alphonse tried, and even he sounded like he was starting to lose his patience. 

“Easy.” Greed leaned forward conspiratorially. “For one thing, I can tell you where they are.” 

Edward’s heart jumped, eyes sharpening. “Tell us.” 

“Nuh, uh. Not until you lighten up, mister intensity.” Greed pushed Edward’s untouched drink across the counter. “We’re all friends here. You’ve piqued my interest with this wayward brother of yours. I’d _ love _ to hear the tale.” 

Edward stared suspiciously at the drink he was offered. Greed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It’s not poisoned. Why would I do that before I got what I wanted?” 

He waited expectantly, and Edward sighed, glaring at the drink as he picked it up. He got the feeling Greed wouldn’t spill until he acquiesced. Edward hated anything that might cloud his judgment, especially in such a dangerous situation, but Greed wasn’t giving him much of a choice. Edward would just have to trust that Alphonse would be able to compensate if it started to affect him.“You would have gotten along with Alex. He adores crap like this.” Holding his breath, Edward took a cautious sip, only to cough roughly as it burned all the way down. “Shit, you sure this isn’t poisoned?” 

Greed laughed, the sound mischievous more than mean, and that only made Edward’s hackles raise higher. “Only if you drink too much of it. But I assure you, you’d pass out long before then.” 

Edward really didn’t like how familiar Greed was acting, as if their being friends was an inevitability. Fat chance in hell. “Alright, alright, I drank your nasty liquor. You gonna talk or what?” 

“Hm, yes, I suppose you deserve a bit of goodwill for being such a good sport.” He smirked. “First of all, there are seven of us homunculi. Eight, including your brother. Which one is he, again?”

“...They called him Empathy.” 

Greed hummed. “Empathy...interesting. Guess even virtues get in the way of Father’s grand ambition.” He took a long sip from his glass, much to Edward’s disgust. But rather than burning him, he seemed to savor it. “How exactly did all of that happen, anyway?”

“You first,” Edward said quickly, matching Greed stare for stare and taking another sip of his own drink, a parody of Greed’s teasing. This time he managed to hold it down, but the second sip was nearly as bad as the first and it wasn’t likely to get any better. Greed’s eyes danced with delight at the challenge. “How can we trust that you’re not just going to go to the rest of them with anything we tell you?” 

That damned laugh made an appearance again and it was really starting to get on Edward’s nerves. “Because they hate me, and if you can trust anything, trust this.” His face twisted with cruel disdain, and so abrupt was the change that Edward found himself leaning back before he could school his reaction. But it wasn’t at them that he directed it, rather something they couldn’t see. _ “The feeling’s mutual.” _

The vitriol in his words definitely went a small ways to granting him credence, Edward would give him that much. Hatred like that was hard to fake. But that didn’t make him trustworthy. “Not good enough.” 

As soon as it came, the dark expression fled, leaving him once again affable. Careless, as if it was no skin off his back one way or the other whether they believe him or not. Or maybe he was so confident that he could force the information he wanted from them if he needed to that he was simply having fun at their expense. Either way, Edward didn’t like it. “Fair enough, I suppose. Alright then, let me tell you my story, then you can decide whether I’m telling the truth.” 

“I was created sometime around, oh,” he looked to the ceiling, adding up his fingers, “1700, I guess. I know, I know, I also thought it wasn’t a very good year for wine, no need to look at me like that. Where was I? Ah, yes, the family. You see, each of us is born with a little piece of Father’s soul inside of us. Good old dad likes to purge himself of those pesky emotions that make him ‘impure’. I was lucky enough to inherit his greed.” He dragged up a stool on the other side of the bar and sat down, eyes distant, ruminating. “Whatever I was before then, I didn’t remember till much later, but I’ll get back to that. Y’see, me and daddy dear didn’t see eye to eye from the get-go. I wanted to do whatever I wanted, and _he _had this grand plan,” he waved his hands in the air to encompass the grandness of it all and Alphonse giggled. Edward shot him a look, but his brother only offered him a shrug. Grudgingly, Edward let it go. So the guy had charisma, so what? Greed smirked, “Let’s just say that following orders got real old, real fast. Oh, he had me doing all sorts of dirty deeds; assassinating this leader or that, instigating wars, sabotaging shipments. Now before you get all up in arms, I never abuse women or children, so you can wipe that frown off your pure little face.” 

Edward grimaced but found that he actually believed Greed when he said it. “That supposed to make me feel better?” 

“Yes, it is,” Greed said. “The world’s an ugly place, as I’m sure you’ve come to find. But I always thought that it was such a waste to kill beings with so much potential.” 

“You don’t hate humans?” Alphonse asked, surprised. The others had seemed to despise the human race, or at the very least regard them with disdain.

Greed mirrored his surprise, a little too theatrical to be entirely believable. “Why would I? I admire humans. How they can be beautiful, clever, _ surprising. _ They can come back after so much abuse even stronger than before! Take the two of you, for example. Your lives are so fragile, bodies so weak, and yet, here you are on the other side of hell, alive and thriving. Another thing me and my compatriots disagree on. No, I enjoy gathering humans to my side, the rarer the better.” He winked at Alphonse, but the younger didn’t look very reassured. 

“You think of them as possessions.” 

“Treasures,” Greed corrected easily. “And unlike some of my kind, I take care of my things.” 

“Real nice of you,” Edward muttered. 

“I _ know. _ Anyway, about a hundred years passed in this drudgery when I happened to collect a few amusing humans that made everything suck just a little bit less. To make an exceedingly long and involved story short, Father wasn’t so pleased with me for some transgression or other–the bastard always was touchy. He decided to kill them as punishment.” Greed was still smiling, but it no longer reached his eyes, a cruel, bitter thing. He took another sip of whiskey. “No one touches what’s _mine_. I flew into a rage and the memories that Father had so conveniently erased returned. Turns out that he was responsible for the death of my first body, only to resurrect me as this empty shell. I tried my damndest to kill him, but well,” he shrugged, shaking off the shadows in his eyes, “a _ cockroach _is hard to kill. I left the fam soon after and we’ve since lost touch. Can’t say I’m sorry for that.”

Edward and Alphonse were silent for several moments as they absorbed the flood of information they’d just been given. “This has been going on...for over two hundred years?” Edward said eventually, picking out the most pressing matter out of all of that. He relaxed a little more fully into his seat now, lulled by the few sips he’d taken and the soothing nature of Greed’s voice. 

“Longer. Much, much longer,” Greed said. “Think lost empires, the beginning of history, that sort of thing, and you’re in the ballpark. My old man’s been around a while.” 

“What _ is _ he?” Alphonse said in awe. 

Greed smiled secretly at that, but it was with an edge that Edward did not miss. “Hell if I know. He’s not exactly forthcoming to even the most loyal of his followers. I doubt any of the other homunculi know the full story either.” 

“Why are you telling us all of this?” Edward narrowed his eyes. 

“Quid pro quo, kid. I tell you my story and you tell me yours.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Edward wasn’t having it, and he was tired of the evasions. “What are you really after? Alphonse can’t be the first soul in armor you’ve seen if you’re as old as you claim.” 

“Maybe,” Greed allowed, “but he is the first automail man I’ve seen. That in itself is rare enough to pique my interest.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t have to tell us any of this to learn that. All we wanted was a location.” 

Greed and Edward stared each other down for several moments, the younger not willing to back down. He was getting answers, sure, but this was all too convenient for his taste. 

“Maybe I just like to cause as much trouble for those assholes as I can. Maybe I think you two are the perfect ones to cause it.” 

“Yeah, or _ maybe _ there’s something they have that you want.” 

Greed frowned, the first time his lips turned direction in the entire conversation. “Anyone ever tell you you’re too clever for your own good, kid?” Edward smirked. It seemed that he was finally getting through the bullshit to see that his suspicions were correct. Maybe he was acting just a bit smug, but he felt he couldn’t really be blamed for that, not when one-upping arrogant adults felt so _good. _

“It might have come up once or twice.” 

Greed’s eyes sparkled at that, a small laugh of disbelief soothing the tension.“Fine then, have it your way. There _ is _ something I want from them. Several somethings, in fact. But you’ll have to forgive me for keeping it to myself for now. Why don’t you tell me what I want to know and we can call this even, hm?”

Edward’s smugness vanished. So, playing it close to the chest, was he? “Not exactly helping your case.” 

The homunculus shook his head. “Got to know that I can trust you, too. As I said, quid pro quo.” 

Well. He had a point. “Alphonse?” 

Al scanned Greed for a long moment, and the older man allowed it, waiting patiently. “...I believe him,” Alphonse finally said, and Edward nodded. Naive he may sometimes be, but Alphonse was generally a good judge of character. Better than Edward tended to be, in any case. 

Considering the homunculus a little more closely, Edward said, “Don’t think this means we’re buddy-buddy. And we’re not going to tell you everything.” 

“Fair enough,” Greed allowed, gesturing for them to go on. 

Alphonse and Edward looked at each other for a long moment before Alphone started speaking. “It started about four years ago, in a small town to the East…” 

Greed was attentive the entire time Alphonse related the tale–heavily edited, of course. They weren’t idiots. Edward barely paid attention to the words, though, trusting Alphonse to use discretion. Instead, he watched Greed’s face for his true motivations. But the man was a flawless listener, gasping at all the right moments and grimacing with sympathy at others. He never interrupted, and Edward couldn’t tell for the life of him what exactly was going on behind those beguiling rouge eyes. All he could really discern was that whether the man was misleading them or not, his interest was genuine. No one was that good of an actor. Edward may not have Alex’s empathic abilities, but he knew genuine hatred when he saw it. At the very least, he could trust that Greed held no love for his supposed family. 

Whether that would actually benefit Edward and Alphonse, in the end, remained to be seen, and no amount of charm was going to get past Edward’s guard so easily.

Alphonse finally fell silent and Greed leaned back, swirling his empty glass contemplatively. Edward expected questions, but was surprised at the direction they went. “When you stormed lab five, did you come across anyone else?”

Alphonse tilted his head. “Yes. There was another armor like me named Barry the Chopper. After that, only the other homunculi.” 

“That it?” 

“Yes,” Edward said firmly. “No one else. Why, you looking for someone?” 

Greed’s eyes drifted down from the ceiling and he smiled, wide and all teeth. “Nope, just curious. Well, that’s all I wanted to know. Thanks bunches, but it’s time I took my leave.” 

“Wait, what?” Edward said, a hot flash of anger lurching him to his feet. “You still haven’t told us where they’re hiding!” 

A loud pounding on the door interrupted them, and Edward and Alphonse jumped, spinning to face the new threat. “Open up! By order of the Fuhrer! Back away from the door and place your hands behind your head!” 

“And that’s my cue.” 

The room went dark and Edward gasped, blinded abruptly as the bar was engulfed in pitch black. 

“Stop,” Alphonse shouted, feet hitting the floor and footsteps pounding after the retreating homunculus. 

“Wait, Al!” But it was too late. Edward stumbled and fell, helpless without his sight and hopelessly entangled in the legs of a rickety barstool. Dammit! The door slammed open and several men in uniform rushed in, shouting for compliance. Before Edward’s eyes could even begin to adjust to the blinding light of late afternoon pouring in, he was on his stomach, hands behind his head with four guns pointed at his vulnerable back. What the hell? What was the military doing here? How did they even know where they were?

He looked around frantically but found himself alone in his predicament. Alphonse and Greed were gone.

* * *

Heart an uneven staccoto behind the cage of his ribs, Edward could do nothing but hold still and hope that one of these trigger happy morons recognized him before he got a bullet in his spine for his trouble. He needed to get to Alphonse, now! They’d been duped. There was no telling what else that homunculus bastard had lied about, and now he knew about Alex.

Heavy footsteps clunked against the wooden floor, but Edward didn’t take his eyes from the intense faces of the men hovering above him. That is, not until he heard a voice he was not expecting. 

“Well, well, Fullmetal. Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?” 

“King Bradley,” he blurted, jerking up to stare into the face of the most powerful man in Amestris. Gaping, it took him several seconds to get over his surprise enough to snap a salute, stunted as it was from the ground. Surprised was an understatement. Just what the hell was the Fuhrer doing in this backwater town? Edward hadn’t crossed paths with the man since his exam. At least, not directly. 

A niggle of suspicion haunted the back of Edward’s mind, but he couldn’t think on it with the adrenaline rushing through his head. The men around him bristled at his sudden movement, but the kind smile on Bradley’s face and a short gesture of his hand had them backing off. 

“What are you doing here?” Edward asked against his better judgment, mind not quite caught up with his mouth just yet. Taking a second look around, he realized that Bradley was not the only familiar face in the crowd. The large, imposing form of Alex Armstrong stood stalwart at the entrance, watching with equal surprise on his broad face. He had not expected to see Edward here, clearly, and that was a small comfort. At least it appeared they were not here on Edward’s account. He turned his eyes back to Bradley, awaiting an answer. 

Instead of being offended by his impertinence, Bradley seemed amused, holding out a hand to help Edward to his feet. Edward took it awkwardly, stumbling only a little as he finally detangled himself from the barstool. 

“I could ask the same of you,” Bradley said, gripping Edward’s hand tightly. A slither of trepidation finally made it through to Edward when he stared up into the shrewd, ice blue orb that held him captive. “This is the hiding place of a dangerous criminal that goes by the name of Greed. I sincerely hope that you have nothing to do with this man.” 

Edward frowned. A criminal? What interest would the military have in a mere fugitive, if what Bradley said was true? “...We just met him today.” What could he say? That he was trying to gather intel on a bunch of inhuman monsters? _ Trust no one_, Mustang’s voice reminded him, and that was all Edward needed to remember that the military was involved in all of this. Whether that meant the Fuhrer himself was negligible; Mustang believed none of them could be trusted, and Edward agreed. He sincerely hoped what he was considering wasn’t the case. It would mean far more dire consequences for this country than he’d imagined. But if he was being honest, he’d never trusted the military in the first place. “He said he knew where to find my younger brother who went missing a couple of weeks ago,” Edward said, which was at least partially true. “He lured us here, but he bolted and Alphonse went after him. I didn’t see where they went.” Edward’s hand creaked in protest as Bradley's grip got even tighter. If it hadn’t been his automail hand, he was certain he’d have bruises blooming already.

“Before we arrived, did you exchange any information with him?” Bradley said, and this time there was no friendliness in his tone whatsoever. 

Edward blinked, frown deepening. “No,” he said, sweat trickling down the back of his neck. “He talked us in circles for a bit but didn’t say anything useful. The military didn’t come up at all.” Adrenaline tingled up and down his spine insistently. _ Predator, _ his mind supplied, and it didn’t help that the man was so much larger than him, nor did the guns still pointed at his body. Perhaps it was only the change in circumstances that made him feel so hunted since Edward didn’t remember feeling his skin crawl in quite this way the last time they crossed paths. 

But that was before Basque Grand, before Tucker, before _ Lab Five_, where he learned just how corrupt and cruel the military could be.

“Let me be more specific,” Bradley said, leaning down. Edward’s eye twitched ever so slightly. He hated being looked down on. He hated even more that the intimidation was working. “If you exchanged any sort of information with the criminal Greed, I will be forced to have you and your brother executed. Now, I will ask again. What did he tell you?” 

Ice made a home in Edward’s heart, the threat doing the exact opposite of what the Fuhrer no doubt expected. Steel hardened his spine and he refused to look away from the man looming over him, the threat of violence against his person forgotten in the protective rage that nearly stole his breath. His brows drew together, eyes widening ever so slightly. “Nothing,” he said again, using every bit of his experience playing the child card to his advantage. “Please, sir, my brother went after him. I need to make sure he’s okay.” 

Bradley looked into his eyes for several tense seconds before finally pulling away. A kind smile once again curled his dark mustache and Edward inwardly shuddered in relief. Too close, too close… 

“I’m sorry to hear that one of your brothers has gone missing, but I do not think it is wise to search for him in such a dangerous manner,” Bradley said, all smiles and fatherly demeanor once he’d been satisfied with Edward’s answer. “Not to worry, though, we’ll find young Alphonse at the very least and make sure he’s safe. In the meantime, please stay here where my men can protect you. This is a dangerous area and I would hate to lose one of my most promising alchemists.” 

Edward was sure he would. He nodded. The Fuhrer placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before addressing his men. “Secure the area. They couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Sir,” Armstrong called, pushing open a portion of the wall that Edward had not noticed, revealing a dark path beyond. A cloying scent filled the room with a rush of air, the tunnel leading to the sewers, no doubt. 

“Excellent. Move out, and leave none alive. I’ll go after Greed myself.”

“Sir!” they chorused and Edward could only watch as the large man disappeared into the dark dank of the city’s underbelly, Armstrong and the others staying behind to secure the building. The larger man only gave Edward a brief glance of acknowledgment before he followed orders along with the rest. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Al,” he mumbled to himself before resuming his seat, stomach clenching with tension. It was out of his hands now, and he wasn’t entirely certain that he’d sent his brother an ally or an executioner. He would have to trust that his younger brother could take care of himself, because with the unfriendly eyes of bluecoats against his back and a direct order from the most powerful man in Amestris, Edward may as well have been bound in chains.

Gunfire shattered the silence somewhere close by and Edward ground his teeth in frustration, hoping for a better outcome than the one he dreaded. 

* * *

“Greed!” 

“Damn, you’re fast, kid. Are you sure I can’t convince you to tag along with me?” 

Alphonse huffed humorlessly in denial as he chased the homunculus down the damp waterways of Dublith, body moving more gracefully than he could have hoped. By the skin of his teeth, he was able to keep up with the elusive man, feet pounding loudly against the slick stone. “Stop! I just want to talk!” There was no way he was going to let their only solid lead get away without telling him what he needed to know. 

“Ha! Tell that to your military friends,” Greed called over his shoulder, a sneer on his face and all veneer of camaraderie gone. “The last time I had a run-in with those assholes they fired first and asked questions_ never!” _

That gave Alphonse pause, but he didn’t allow it to slow him as he jumped debris and skidded around the corner, his adversary once again slipping out of sight. “Is that why you needed to talk to us? Is it the military you’re after?” He shouted in surprise as a black-clad foot came careening towards his face in answer. He threw his forearms up to block, but was still slammed back into the opposite wall with a heavy thunk. 

“Nice, very durable. Not as good as my shield, but I think I could compromise,” Greed praised, scanning Alphonse’s form covetously. A spark of indignation had Alphonse pushing himself from the wall and readying a fighting stance. He didn’t want this to come to blows–he’d actually sort of liked the man before he went feral–but he would if he had to.

“Just tell me where they are and I’ll let you leave.” 

Even the small sign of irritation in Greed’s eyes didn’t make a dent in his arrogant grin. “Like you stand a chance against me. Besides, I’m not the one you should be fighting. If anything, you should be worried about the shorty you abandoned to the mercies of your precious military.” 

“What do you mean?” Alphonse said, real fear making its way into his voice. Why would Edward be in danger from the military? He was one of their own! “What do you know!” 

“I know that you should think carefully about who to trust in that den of snakes.” Greed crouched down and Alphonse tensed. The air crackled and sparked and the homunculus's skin began to change, morphing from smooth porcelain to carbon black in a creeping wave. “I for one think it’s hilarious you came all the way out here for answers when the very thing you hoped to find was right beneath your nose!” 

“Wha–” He lunged before Alphonse could do more than gasp in surprise, clawed hands plunging straight towards his heart with unerring accuracy. Alphonse was able to deflect one blow, but the other tore through his armor and chest plate like paper, squealing metal and fabric ripped away in an instant to leave his soul pendant exposed. 

Alphonse froze in terror as Greed laughed, claws clasped around the medallion poised to rip it out. How did he know to _ do _ that? “You think I don’t know your weaknesses? I watched as you were _ made.” _ His grin widened until it consumed his face with gleaming, sharp white and Alphonse couldn’t help but wonder if he had thwarted death one too many times–if his end had finally come to claim him. “I was going to let you go, but you just had to get in my way. Now I’m starting to think I don’t want to give you up! Let’s go for a ride.” 

But Greed never got the chance to go through with the action that would render Alphonse helpless. The air shrieked and Greed’s expression froze as his arm was severed where porcelain met ebony in a flash of cold steel. Blood splattered in a gruesome arch of gore over Alphonse’s face and mutilated chest, painting the horrified boy in black and red. 

The last thing Alphonse saw before bright white light consumed him was shock and genuine fear twist Greed’s sharp face. 

* * *

_ “Brother! BROTHER!” _

_ No, no, no it was all so messed up, what did they do wrong? Where was Edward, why couldn’t he see him? _

_ Blinding white, dust in the air as he fell to pieces, too many images passing in front of him, _ ** _what had they done?_ **

_ A grinning face. Mom? No. _

_ It was his own. _

_ Alphonse wanted to scream, but instead, he faded to nothing, unable to release his horror as his voice was ripped away. _

  
  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously Greed knows a lot more than he's letting on. What would he have told them if he hadn't been interrupted? Who knows! Though they learned enough that now when everyone is together they'll have a clearer picture of what's going on. Greed is going to be interesting. I've got a different plan for him ;)
> 
> Hey, if you like this, I would appreciate a shoutout. Keeps me motivated like nothing else :) See you next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greed has daddy issues, Edward and Alphonse find that not all was as they left it in Central.

A sword, drenched in Greed’s blood and thrown forcefully from an impossible distance, pinged sharply and shattered the stone wall beside Alphonse’s slumped form. Greed watched, momentarily paralyzed, as his severed arm dislodged itself from the crevices of the boy’s armor to fall heavily onto his lap with a sick _ thunk _. 

A guttural sound, a laugh if you’ve never heard one, pulled itself from Greed’s throat, a thin barrier against the pain he’d used again and again during his long, violent life. With the strength of one whose mind has been broken against the vision of all the parts of himself strewn at his feet at one point or other, Greed slid his eyes from the severed limb to the catalyst.

Shit. He was too late. He should have ditched the kid faster, but his nature once again got the better of him, a constant battle against the desire to see his collection grow that he never quite got the hang of resisting. 

Drawing on the cruel smile that shielded him from the worst of the world, Greed stood and sneered at his pursuer with the deep well of hatred nurtured and reserved for a select few, one of which stood before him now. 

“Well, well,” Greed said sardonically, grinding the rancid air through his teeth, ignoring the agony of his severed limb. “If it isn’t Fuhrer King Bradley himself? Or should I say, _ Wrath.” _

Sour bile coated the back of Greed’s throat as Wrath stood impassively in the center of the tunnel, heedless of the muck ruining his fine leather boots, sullying the trappings of a role Greed knew Wrath would never suffer but for the loyalty of their shared creator–or captor, as the case may be. Four sheaths adorned Wrath’s back, one empty of the rapier now ringing in the stone, Greed’s blood a macabre painting beneath it. “Greed. It’s been too long,” Wrath said coldly, no sign of his human persona present in the absence of an audience. Greed was glad for it. He didn’t think he could stomach the ‘kind old guy’ act any more than he knew Wrath would tolerate Greed’s surrender. 

“A real _ family reunion,” _ Greed grinned, crouching defensively and summoning his shield, even knowing that it would be as ineffective as the last time they’d crossed blades, something he would never admit under pain of true death. Fine. This was fine. He hadn’t been able to get the information he needed from the Elrics, so perhaps this was destiny? He would just pry the information from Wrath’s cold dead _ corpse _. 

The thought brought a thrill of vicious pleasure through Greed’s tensed body. His grin twitched and were he human, sweat would shine over his forehead and betray the bitterness of his doubts. 

“You lost the right to call us family, traitor,” Wrath stated cooly, slowly unsheathing another of his swords like the fang of some great beast set to drain Greed of everything he was. “This time, you won’t be getting away from me.” 

“So you _ are _ here for me,” Greed drawled. “I’m flattered. Did good ol’ dad send you to deliver a warm hello?” 

“Father has better things to do than worry about a broken vessel. This is simply a stop on my way to more important matters.” 

Greed’s grin disappeared in a snarl, rejection stinging the frayed twine of his once strong ties to his former family, sawed away over time until nothing remained but the slightest of threads. It vibrated now, still stubbornly unsevered despite his every effort to do so over the decades, still tight enough about his throat that it could _ hurt _ . How dare they think of him as insignificant? Him! He was not so diminished that he couldn’t _ destroy them all. _ “Aw, you’re just mad because you couldn’t finish the job, isn’t that right? I bet you came to save face.” 

“On the contrary,” Wrath said, examining his blade with the military precision he’d been made for. “Father has no reason to doubt my abilities. I, after all, am no failure.” 

“Like I give a rat’s ass what that _ bastard _ thinks,” Greed growled. He lunged, intending to take the smug asshole’s head clean off his shoulders, but howled as his arms were once again rent from him before his full shield could manifest. His cry choked off into a wet whistle as he was impaled once, twice, three times in the abdomen before he could get his foot up to fend off his attacker. Wrath stepped away, easily avoiding the clumsy blow. He flicked his blade with a twirl of light and crimson, an effortless show of skill and an insult to Greed’s threat. 

He stared down his nose coldly as Greed collapsed to his knees in the filth. 

“You bastard,” Greed rattled through his punctured lungs, glaring up at his tormentor. How? How could a halfbreed homunculus that could grow old defeat _ him, _ Greed? He was superior in every way. He shuddered as his wounds healed over, limbs regrowing and punctures suturing, a process that only ever left scars on memory long numb against it. He coughed roughly, expelling the excess blood to dilute in the brackish water. 

“You always were pathetic,” Wrath said, observing his counterpart dispassionately. “Your ultimate shield is a joke and worse, you let yourself go soft. For what? A few ruined humans_?_ Don’t make me laugh.” 

Rage tore through Greed and he lurched, catching Wrath around the neck and slamming him against the wall. Wrath’s mustache didn’t so much as twitch as Greed bared his teeth. _ “Where are they?” _

Wrath’s answer was a blade in Greed’s gut. 

Greed choked and drowned in his own blood as the blade ripped through his abdomen, legs going abruptly numb and the ground racing up to meet him. Wrath swiped a fleck of crimson from his cheek and adjusted the collar of his shirt before planting a boot on Greed’s mutilated back. Greed couldn’t do more than wheeze as he died, filthy water filling the gouge in his abdomen and his gaping mouth, spine severed and limbs unresponsive. “Here’s how this is going to work. You were only left alone because you became irrelevant and our merciful Father thought your punishment sufficient. But now you are interfering with our sacrifices, so it’s high time you come to heel. You should be proud; even your weak philosopher’s stone can still be of use.”

“N-not a chance in h-hell,” Greed choked through the blood and drool and polluted water, still smiling despite the pain, despite the burning itch of alchemy stitching him back together. It was slowing down now, his stone struggling to keep up with the output of energy required to keep him alive. 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice,” Wrath said in a facsimile of sympathy. Greed just laughed, high pitched, hysterical, broken. He would not go down without a _ fight_. 

His spine snapped back into place, a rush of sensation returning to his legs. He tensed–

“Greed!” a reedy voice echoed through the tunnel, shattering the thin pane of drama separating the two of them from the rest of the world.

Greed’s eyes widened and his chest clenched in true panic, heart battering against the repressed cage of his ribs. No. That _ idiot! _He’d told him to get away!

A short figure careened around the corner, grey cloak concealing his compact form, but not the bald globe of his head and the expression of pure terror twisting his beady features. “Bido, what the hell are you–” Greed tried to force himself up–No, idiot, idiot, _ idiot_–but Wrath stomped down brutally, bursting the air from his bruised lungs with a harsh cough. 

Bido was not alone. Gunfire rained in ear-shattering pops as the short man ducked and weaved, three officers pounding around the bend in hot pursuit, wolves after an easy meal. 

Wrath growled under his breath at the interruption and the necessary veneer of his performance, the chains of his command. 

Greed watched with wide eyes as the first of the group overcame Bido, but the shorter man was too fast, spinning down low and sweeping the soldier’s legs from beneath him with a swipe of a long, serpentine tail. The soldiers behind stumbled and stalled over their thrashing comrade and Bido dashed after Greed, reaching out with a patchy clawed hand. “Get away from him!” 

Greed’s breath hitched. _ No. _ Not this time.

“Bido, get out of here!” Greed felt the moment Wrath prepared to move with a rush of electric adrenaline. He twisted, using his shoulders to propel his legs upward, clipping Wrath in the chin. Wrath reared back, his surprise granting Greed enough time to get to his feet, launching towards Bido to force him out of the line of fire. Bido shrieked as Greed grasped him and threw him into a side tunnel in a rain of bullets, dragging him into a dead run while their pursuers scrambled to catch up, the much shorter man hardly touching the ground as they flew through the tunnels. “You idiot! What are you _ doing _ here? I _ told _ you to hide!”

Bido’s eyes, always wide open, overlarge because of his second, unnatural nature, sparked with an earnestness that Greed found hard to doubt. “And if you died, then what? I’d be alone!” 

Greed grit his teeth, crimson eyes flicking down to the smaller man. Bido was clearly terrified, expression drenched with fear. It was out of character for the usually skittish man to be here at all, but Greed could understand his desperation. Everyone else was gone. Bido and Greed were the only ones left, which is why he’d _ told him to hide, dammit! _

_ “Shit!” _

Greed shoved Bido down and convulsed as gunfire tore into his back, but staggered only a moment before throwing them both down another tunnel. If only he could summon his shield, but his body was still drained from healing so much in such short succession. He needed more _ time. _

He had none.

“Hold your fire,” Wrath’s voice echoed and Greed cursed, knowing that meant Wrath was coming after them alone. 

“Follow me!” Bido exclaimed, voice breaking. He took Greed’s arm and dragged him down another passage, taking the lead where Greed faltered. 

“Bido, what–” but Greed understood the moment they stepped into the open area of a crossroads, three new tunnels diverging in the gloom. 

Bido and Greed spun around when the sound of footsteps echoed loudly, witnessing Wrath on a warpath, an unstoppable force in space where Greed hardly felt immovable. They were too late.

But Bido was not done. Tugging on Greed’s shirt, Bido made a sharp gesture behind his back and threw something down on the ground with a harsh _ bang_. The small bomb exploded and filled the tunnels with noxious smoke, consuming Bido and Greed, but not quickly enough for Wrath to miss the grin of triumph that lit Greed’s face. 

* * *

Wrath slowed from his dead run as his vision was obscured, exposed eye immediately watering and burning. He ground his jaw in an uncharacteristic expression of irritation, taking several deliberate steps back. His ultimate eye wouldn’t be of any use if he couldn’t _ see. _

In an obnoxious racket of splashes and shouting, Wrath’s men reached his side prepared to move forward, but he held a hand out to stop them. No use in getting his pawns killed senselessly. He would need all the warm bodies he could get before long. 

Within minutes, the gas was cleared enough to see, but it was no use. Greed and his pet were long gone. 

No matter. Greed’s escape was no more than a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t lied; pursuing Greed was a short side-stop to his true goal. 

“Come,” he ordered, his men falling in line as he retraced his steps. He needed to send the Elrics on their way so he could complete his task. It wouldn’t do for them to stray too far from Father’s control. 

Wrath had business with the border today. 

* * *

“Al. Alphonse!” 

Alphonse came to with a jerk, Edward’s concerned face the first thing he saw in the rush of light, a parting of the curtains to let in the sun. “Brother…?”

Edward’s brow crumpled in relief, though the tension around his lips did not diminish. “Oh, thank god you’re okay. Thought I’d lost you there for a minute. Why’d you run off on your own like that?” 

“Sorry,” Alphonse said quietly. “I didn’t realize you couldn’t follow until it was too late.” He looked around slowly, finding himself in Devil’s Nest proper once again, propped up against the wall. Several soldiers still milled around, the sharp blue of their pressed uniforms bright against the dinge of the abandoned building. They weren’t paying the brothers any mind. 

Alphonse was surprised when Major Armstrong crouched down to eye level, eyes glimmering kindly. “Alphonse, are you alright?” the older man asked gently, and Alphonse felt a little something in himself ease at the face of someone he actually trusted. 

“I...think so. Wait, what about Greed?” A small burst of alarm had Alphonse remembering the final moments before he blacked out. He looked down to his chest that had been so badly damaged and for one dizzying moment thought that his new body had bled despite the lack of arteries or human warmth. But no, it was not his blood, nor even human blood, that soaked into every crevice of his black clothes and ruined metal, but Greed’s. 

“Sorry, I’d hoped I could clean that up before you woke,” Edward said gently, pulling Alphonse’s hovering hand away from his vessel’s wound, dark eyes just as haunted as Alphonse felt as if he too found it hard to separate the blood from Alphonse’s injury. “This was a close one. Too close. We may need to rethink this chest plate…” 

“He knew,” Alphonse said darkly, “He knew everything about how I was made. He must have been watching us since we arrived in Rush Valley. Maybe longer.” 

“Yeah,” Edward said grimly. It was the only way his attacks could have been so precise. The question was, who else might have been watching? 

“Good to see you awake, young man,” an older man’s voice interrupted them. Major Armstrong stood immediately with a sharp salute as Fuhrer Bradley walked into the room to join their conversation, the men around him following suit. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 

“Uh, thank you, sir,” Alphonse said tentatively, surprise coloring his tone. Alphonse tensed as his shrewd eye scanned the exposed plates of his chest, but if the Fuhrer was curious about it, he didn’t express it. 

“Not at all. I’m just glad you’re both alright.” He turned to Edward. “I understand that you two are searching for your brother, but I’m afraid I must ask you to return to Central. There is a delicate matter I must attend to in the southern region and I have ordered all uninvolved military personnel back to Command.” 

“What’s going on, sir?” Edward asked on just this side of polite, and Alphonse shot him a look, recognizing the guileless tone of his brother scheming. 

Nothing about Bradley’s expression changed, but his singular focus on Edward made Alphonse distinctly uncomfortable, an older predator eyeing a younger across neutral territory. “I’m afraid it’s confidential for now, but I wouldn’t worry. If all goes well, you should be hearing about it in a few days' time.” He turned his back. “Now, I must be going. Your superior officer has been contacted and expects you to return within the next two days, so no time to dally. And, Major Elric,” he paused before ascending the stairs to the outside, looking over his shoulder with a gleaming blue eye. Edward snapped to attention. “I may be a forgiving man, but other officers can be quite stiff, you understand. Try to keep the insubordination to a minimum, hm?” 

“Yes, sir!” Edward said with a salute of his own, and Fuhrer Bradley gave them one last smile before leaving them to their own devices, the resounding echo of his boots louder than it should be as if a giant and not a man filled them. The rest of the soldiers left with him like a tide receding, making it just a little easier to breathe. 

Only Armstrong remained. When the three of them were alone, Edward let the tension out of his shoulders with a relieved exhale. “Well. That happened. C’mon,” he looked around for a cloth and some water he could use, “let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Finding some cleaning supplies, Edward began the arduous task of removing the blood from the cavity of Alphonse’s chest. It had seeped into every crevice and textured plane like a splattering of the wrong colored paint, but it wasn’t the worst Edward had to deal with. Edward found the task familiar even, long used to maintaining his own automail through many a bloody conflict, and it was easier for him to consider Alphonse as an extension of himself than it probably ought to be.

“Is there somewhere safe nearby that you’re staying,” Armstrong asked. “I’ll have to catch up with my men shortly, but I want to make sure you two don’t get into any more trouble.” 

Alphonse huffed a laugh while Edward scowled. He wasn’t wrong. “Yeah. Our teacher lives in this city. We’re staying with her.” 

“Very well. What will you do now?”

Edward grimaced. “Well, we go back to Central. Hard to argue with a direct order from the Fuhrer.” 

“I think we should head there anyway,” Alphonse said slowly. “When I was chasing Greed, he told me he thought it was funny that we came all the way out here for answers when what we were seeking was right under our noses.” 

Edward mulled that over as he carefully removed rusty flakes from Alphonse’s shoulder. “Hm. Well, at least this trip wasn’t totally useless. It confirms that the homunculi are in Central, like we suspected.” And didn’t that hurt? Alex had been so close, and yet they still hadn’t been able to find a trace of him. He cursed Greed for being so vague but was hardly surprised. Things were never that easy.

“Homunculi?” Armstrong asked, and Edward realized suddenly that he still hadn’t caught Armstrong up to date since they’d last traveled together. It was easy to forget that not everyone in Mustang’s circle knew as much as they did.

“Yeah. That woman who was stalking Alex and those guys I told you about from lab five–they’re homunculi. We still don’t know what exactly they’re after, but we do know that Alex is with them.” He found it hard to believe that this ‘Father’ just wanted ultimate power. There had to be more to it than that. 

“Hey, brother,” Alphonse said, “do you think that Greed might have been speaking literally?”

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s just...something he said. That we should be careful who to trust in the military. He called them a ‘den of snakes’.” 

Edward worked silently for several moments. “Well, we know that at least some in the military were involved in the events of lab five. He could be talking about that? Hey, Armstrong, have we learned anything new from the investigation?” 

Armstrong’s stance shifted ever so slightly. “I’m afraid I’m not qualified to answer that. Also, the lab five investigation has been put on hold for the time being.”

Edward blinked. “Why? I thought Hughes was on it.” He furrowed his brow, thinking. “Actually, I have some questions Hughes might be able to help with. We should look him up first when we get back, Al.” 

“Edward,” Armstrong said seriously, crouching down to take Edward’s shoulders in his large hands. Edward stared into his uncharacteristically grim features, uneasy. It reminded him uncomfortably of his size to be dwarfed so easily by someone who he willingly allowed past his guard. But Armstrong had long earned his trust, unlike most who wore the coat. “I need you to promise me not to do anything rash.” 

“...Okay?” It came out as more of a question. Edward glanced at Alphonse, but Armstrong’s hands squeezing him tighter forced him to meet the older man’s eyes, the blue heavy with the things he couldn’t–wouldn’t?–say.

“Promise me.” 

Now Edward was getting nervous. “I promise,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was agreeing to.

With a grim nod, Armstrong stood and turned to leave. “Good. I’ll ask you two not to stray on your way back to your teacher’s house. Greed was not apprehended and could be targeting you still. I must return to the Fuhrer’s side. Stay out of trouble.” 

When the door closed quietly behind him, Edward shook his head slowly as if that would somehow unearth the sewn seed of trepidation that Armstrong left, growing despite the lack of actual information. “What is it with adults and telling us to stay out of trouble?” 

“Well, we are kind of trouble magnets,” Alphonse said without humor, distracted. 

Edward pulled his eyes from the now vacant door, sure now that they were finally alone. “Hey, are you really alright? You scared the crap out of me back there.” 

“...I remember everything.” 

“You mean…?”

“Yes,” he said softly, voice weighed down with the memories of _ in between _ he’d been missing. “I remember the gate, and being deconstructed, and seeing my body. And something else.” He looked down at his hands as Edward watched in stunned silence. “There was this moment where I was inside of that thing we made. Or, what became Alex, I guess. For a moment...we were one. Then you pulled me out.” He looked up at Edward, and Edward saw the flash of warm brown eyes, a ghost of his brother’s true from before it was taken. “I think that’s why we were linked from the start, and maybe why he ended up looking like me.” 

“Okay,” Edward said consideringly. “But that doesn’t explain why a link formed between me and Alex later.” 

Alphonse hummed, but he didn’t have any more answers. 

“What about the philosopher’s stone? Did you learn anything useful?”

“No. Sorry.” 

“Eh, it’s alright,” Edward said with a reassuring smile, and Alphonse tried to let it comfort him. “This wasn’t a total bust. Greed might have been an evasive asshole, but we did learn some things, like that this has been going on even longer than we thought. Once we get back to Central, Hughes should find that useful. Also, what you learned about Alex might be important.” With a final swipe, Edward deemed Alphonse clean enough. He clapped his hands together and repaired the damage with a swift surge of energy, adding in a sturdier protection circle for good measure. This wouldn’t be happening again, not if he had anything to say about it. He’d already lost one brother to the homunculi; neither this Greed character or anyone else would be taking another. 

“There. Let’s get back. If we want to be able to make it to Central in time, we need to leave tonight.” 

“Right.” 

* * *

Their journey back to Central was uneventful, to say the least. Perhaps a good thing, considering the great deal of physical stress Edward had been under for the past several weeks, especially considering he was barely healed enough to be moving around since lab five. He spent most of the trip back sleeping, for once not complaining about the hard train benches or rattled teeth. Alphonse honestly wondered how Edward managed to sleep so much. He would chalk it up to still healing, but Edward had always been like that. He was like a cat; if he had eighteen hours a day to commit to sleep, he absolutely would. Alphonse and Alex were often amused at their brother’s expense for that very reason, especially when it became apparent that Alex could no longer sleep at all, leaving the two of them to wait for Edward to wake each day.

So it was a well-rested Edward that strolled into Central Command the next evening, travel bag thrown casually over one shoulder and no thoughts other than to get his meeting with Mustang over with so they could make their way to the Hughes’s for some of Gracia’s great cooking. Despite everything, he was in a good mood, and even the unfriendly eyes he could imagine burning into his back from every dark doorway couldn’t dampen it.

“Oh, hey Edward! Who’s your friend?” Edward and Alphonse paused on their way to Mustang’s office, the voice of a friend slowing their steps. 

“How’s it going, Havoc?” Edward lifted a hand in greeting as the older man strolled down the hall to catch up to them, a lollipop clenched beneath his teeth in another futile attempt to quit smoking. Havoc grinned, unconcerned or perhaps unaware that his lips were stained red like the last legs of day-wear lipstick. 

“Ah, it’s me, Alphonse,” Alphonse said, ducking his head. 

“No way,” Havoc said cheerfully. “You look great, Al! I had no idea you’d had another outfit commissioned!” 

“Ah, yeah,” Edward said with an ironic twist of his brow. He knew full well that Havoc knew that Alphonse’s armor wasn’t just an outfit, but he appreciated that he was being discreet. 

“And you’re looking all better, Ed. Gotta say, though, I didn’t expect to see you two so soon! what brings you back to Central?” As he spoke, he gestured for them to follow, the three of them making their way to Mustang’s wing. Edward side-eyed him.

“There a reason we can’t be here?”

“What, no! Just thought it would take you longer to get yourselves situated, is all.” Havoc didn’t look him in the eye as he said it, but Edward let it slide. 

“Yeah, well, we got done faster than we expected. We started towards the southern border, but the Fuhrer ordered us back to Central.” 

Havoc’s brow dipped, though his smile twitched in place. “Did he, now. I’d heard he was heading that direction.” When he didn’t say anything more, Edward began to get annoyed. It was as if everyone they crossed these days was hiding something from them in one way or the other and it was setting Edward’s teeth on edge. 

“We learned something that Hughes might find interesting,” Alphonse said after a moment. “After Ed reports to Mustang we’re going to visit his office. Is he around today?”

Havoc’s steps slowed, affected cheer sinking into something more contemplative. Edward watched him carefully, slowing his pace until all three of them were forced to come to a stop. “Havoc. There’s something you’re not telling us.” 

Havoc was silent for a moment before he slipped the candy from his mouth and flicked it out the open window for something to do other than look them in the eye. “Look, Al, Ed…” 

“Fullmetal,” a deep, familiar command interrupted whatever Havoc might have been about to reveal and Edward grimaced in distaste. With a sigh, he looked over his shoulder with hands shoved in his pockets, watching Mustang cross the hall to greet them. Edward eyed him critically, and though Mustang’s insufferable mug was as impassive as ever, he looked somehow worse than the last time Edward had seen him, as if he hadn’t slept at all during the weeks Edward and Alphonse had been gone. “I’ve been expecting you.” 

He spared a look for Havoc, who looked simultaneously relieved that he’d been interrupted and regretful that he no longer had something between his teeth to worry. Flashing a quick, unconvincing smile to Edward and Alphonse, he gave them a mock salute before stepping away. “Sorry to run, boys, but I have some business to get to. See you later, Colonel.” 

Edward clicked his teeth irritably as the man-made his escape, but he didn't have time to worry about it with Mustang breathing down his neck. 

“You’re late,” Mustang said predictably and Edward was tempted to roll his eyes. 

“Spare me, Mustang. I got my orders just last night, you should be lucky I got here so quickly.” 

The older man’s black eyes bore into his and Edward could already tell he didn’t like where this was going. “Come with me. I want to hear a full report.”

Following after his superior officer much like a rebellious dog would its master, Edward was unsurprised when Alphonse leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Something’s wrong.” 

Nodding grimly, Edward didn’t bother to reply. That much was obvious. First Armstrong, then Havoc and now even Mustang was looking like his puppy had been kicked. Something was very wrong, and Edward was done with the evasions. 

The three made their way down the halls of Command and this time, Edward wasn’t imagining the unfriendly eyes. Only, they weren’t pointed at him and his brother, but Mustang, whose shoulders couldn’t get any straighter without shattering his spine. 

Edward was at his wit’s end before the door to Mustang’s office finally clicked securely shut behind them. He didn’t bother to sit in his usual spot on Mustang’s sofa, too keyed up and suspicious to pretend this was anything close to a standard visit. He watched carefully as Mustang locked his door before making his way to the window beside his desk, the late evening sun casting him in a long shadow.

“What’s this about, Mustang?” Edward finally said when it was obvious that the older man wasn’t going to speak first. 

“That new face suits you, Alphonse. I take it your trip to Rush Valley was a success?” Mustang said instead of answering, much to Edward’s mounting annoyance.

“Yes, it was,” Alphonse said politely. “And thank you. But you have something to tell us, don’t you?” 

Mustang’s dark head bowed ever so slightly, and Edward zeroed in on it, expression darkening by the minute. 

“Did you find Alex?” he asked softly, scanning Mustang for any sign that his hunch was right. After all, what else could have made everyone so evasive, unless their brother had been sighted? Beside him, Alphonse stood just as still, just as hopeful and expectant and nervous to hear the answer as Edward. 

It was a long time before Mustang brought himself to answer, and if Edward wasn’t both anticipating and dreading the news equally, he might have pushed him again. But the tightness in every line of Mustang’s form made him hesitate, made him think that perhaps he wanted to wait just a little bit longer before his hopes were crushed.

“No,” Mustang said slowly, turning around. Edward narrowed his eyes, but couldn’t read Mustang’s enigmatic blacks. “I thought I found his trail, but lost it soon after. It appears that he fought Scar.” 

Edward inhaled sharply. “Is he okay? How do you know it was him?”

“His chimera reacted to his scent, but I lost both the chimera and the lead when it took off down the tunnels beneath the city.” 

Edward pursed his lips. So, Alex was indeed still in Central. Under their noses, as Greed had claimed. “The only reason Alex wouldn’t have found his way back to us was if he was still being held captive.” 

“...I agree,” Mustang after a moment. “But we already knew that.” 

“What about Scar?” 

“He hasn’t been sighted since. I believe that either Alex subdued him and he’s in hiding to lick his wounds, or he left the city.”

Alphonse nodded. “At least we don’t have to worry about him anymore.” 

“More importantly, we came across another homunculus in the South. Goes by the name of Greed.” Edward scowled. “He was pretty cagey, but at least he didn’t seem to be on the same side as the other homunculi. He gave us some information that Hughes might find useful–” Edward cut himself, wide eyes tracked on Mustang’s face. This time there was no mistaking the way the raven’s brow darkened, the shadows beneath his eyes becoming deeper. “That’s _ it. _What happened, Mustang, and don’t give me that ‘protect the kid’ routine. This is the third time someone’s reacted badly when Hughes came up. What. Happened.” 

Mustang leaned against the wall heavily, closing his eyes, and it struck Edward just how _tired _he looked. Defeated. It was so starkly opposite his usual indomitable confidence that something shook loose and precarious in Edward’s chest, the world going wobbly around the edges like a plate on a spindle in an amateur's hand. 

“Mustang?” Alphonse said tentatively when Edward struggled to find his voice through the dread, eyes already widening in realization. 

“I’m afraid Hughes won’t be able to help us. He’s been attacked.” 

A small sound of distress was the only reaction Alphonse could give, voicing for both himself and a frozen Edward what the news means to them. 

Before either could ask, Mustang continued, folding his arms over his chest to protect the heavy bruise Edward could already feel echoing in his own breast. “He was staying late to research the recent raid of lab five when he was assaulted outside the doors of Command, suffering severe wounds and a mental breakdown that saw him institutionalized. He hasn’t been able to speak since.” 

* * *

“I can’t believe this,” Edward whispered, fingers lightly brushing the glass that separated him and Alphonse from one of the people they cared about most in this world. 

It didn’t make sense. Why would Barret–Hughes’ partner, the son of Alex’s mentor and the man who protected Alex when he left for Dublith–attack Hughes? The betrayal stung, but what Edward was experiencing was a mere shadow compared to what it did to Hughes.

Hughes lay immobile on the white hospital-grade cot on which he rested, the room about him an unassuming beige and empty of all furniture save for a single chair. No light from outside reached him here, as if even the touch of the sun would shatter his fragile form. Hughes lay deathly pale in the center of the bed, his tall frame diminished, curled in on itself and guarded even as he slept, as if any moment he would be harmed by the nightmares that plagued his every waking hour. 

He’d been betrayed by someone who he’d trusted and considered friend, and the shock had been enough to _ break _ him. 

Hughes looked just as ragged as Mustang with those same heavy bags beneath his eyes, as if his condition directly linked to the state of the other. Perhaps it did. Edward had only known Mustang and Hughes to be together, the only time he’d ever seen his superior officer casually when Hughes managed to drag him over for dinner and coax out the parts of Mustang that only Alex had ever been able to see far from prying eyes. Edward could only imagine what he must feel, when Edward himself felt like shards of glass had taken up residence in his throat, a sick pounding in his chest and throbbing heat behind his eyes without leave for release. 

He didn’t want to see Hughes like this, not when his most recent memories of Hughes were of him sending them off with a smile. “He was fine when we left, Al,” Edward continued, words broken things that nearly died before he could speak them. “He was _ fine.” _

“This doesn’t make any _sense,” _ Alphonse said just as brokenly, echoing the sentiment that Edward had repeated to himself so many times in the last hour. 

Before they left to visit Hughes, they’d barely given Mustang enough time to tell them that Lieutenant Barret’s gun was found on the scene and that he’d been arrested for the assault of Maes Hughes. 

He also told them that Barret was sentenced to the firing wall in a day’s time for his crimes. 

“I mean, we _ know _ Barret. He would never do this,” Alphonse said, grasping for something, anything to mean that this wasn’t true.

“I know,” Edward said, nearly inaudible, resting his forehead against the glass and staring at Hughes’s pinched face. The stillness looked so unnatural on lips that were always smiling, on eyes that were always kind. 

“This is the man who,” Alphonse said, voice rising, “who helped take down Yoki. Who protected Alex in Dublith–”

“I know, Al,” Edward said, a little louder. 

“–who helped me to the roof and kept me company when I couldn’t move and gave Nina a flower when she was sad and made sure Alex ate–”

“Alphonse,” Edward clasped Alphonse’s shoulder and turned him away from Hughes’ room, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I _ know. _ None of this makes sense because Barret didn’t do this.” 

That finally calmed Alphonse down enough to hear what Edward was saying. “What?” 

“I don’t believe Barret would do this. I _ can’t. _ Alex trusted him, _ Hughes _trusted him. There has to be something else to this, we just have to find out what it is.”

A low groan from behind dragged their eyes to the still slumbering Hughes, the IV attached to his arm keeping him that way. But not enough, it seemed, for his nightmares to give him peace. “You’re right,” Alphonse said, placing a gloved hand against the glass as gently as Edward had. “But how do we prove it? Mustang said that Barret is scheduled to face the firing wall tomorrow. He’ll be dead before we can gather the evidence we need.” 

“No, he won’t,” Edward promised to the music of an uneven heart monitor and the memory of Hughes’ laughter. “Because we’re going to break him out before that can happen.” 

* * *

Barret counted the seconds one by one. Sixty, a minute. Three thousand, six hundred, and hour. All he could do was count down the lingering moments before he faced the consequences for the crimes of which he’d been convicted. Those investigating his case had been merciless, no faces familiar, as if the entirety of the Investigations Department had been replaced with imposters of some foreign will. He wondered if Hughes had already been replaced. He wondered if he had. 

Barret shifted against the wall at his back, arms crossed over his knees and head bowed to block out the flickering fluorescents from the featureless hall, his body cast in thin shadows as if the bars separating him from freedom reached out across the room to spite him. A soft tinkling of metal against metal reminded him of the silver tags around his wrists like shackles, tight enough to bite into his skin with cold teeth. There would be no removing the tags of a traitor, the plates engraved with his name meant to follow him into the earth after his sentence had been carried out, into an unmarked grave reserved for the worst criminals, enemies of the State. Such was the fate of all of those who ended up in this cell block, appropriately named Traitor’s Row. 

They would be coming for him in a matter of hours. Mustang had not been able to clear his name, it seemed. Barret laughed to himself humorlessly. Perhaps he should have taken the man up on is offer to flee. 

The footsteps of his silent guard echoed in the long hall, steps slow, measured, a drumbeat by which to time Barret’s counts, nearly as accurate as the pumps of his own heart. It was comforting, in a way, that even in the most reviled of prisons of the institution that he’d given nearly half of his life in service to was still committed to following protocol, if not due process.

Only. 

He hadn’t expected his guard for another ten minutes.

The steps paused outside of his cell and Barret opened his eyes to take in the dull black boots planted against the floor, facing the gate with more purpose than a guard to his soon to expire charge. 

“Those aren’t standard issue,” Barret said with a rusty voice, not having been allowed so much as a drink of water so close to his end. He lifted his gaze and was somehow unsurprised by what he found. “Well. I suppose you’ve come to tell me ‘I told you so’.”

“No.” The heavy thunk of a container of liquid echoed loudly throughout the hall and Barret eyed the red can with growing unease. “I’m here to kill you.” 

* * *

Alphonse and Edward were barely outside the grounds of Command and into the alleys of Central when the very place they were trying to reach went up in a ball of flames. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, what will Greed get up to? Not telling! As you can see, he shares a bit of a different history with Wrath and the others than in either series. I have a soft spot for that guy and hope to do him proper justice. 
> 
> Why did Mustang lie? I'm sure you all can guess. But it looks like Ed and Al believed it just about as much as they believed Maria Ross did it.
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying the series. Even though it's not my most popular work, I can't help but love this AU I've built. If you love it too, drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you. See you next time!


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